


The Coming of Nico di Angelo

by ninjagirlmai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, F/M, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek Mythos, Gryffindor Percy, Hogwarts, Hogwarts AU, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Original Mythology, POV Multiple, Prophecy, Quest, Ravenclaw Annabeth, Self-Harm, Slytherin Nico, Weekly Updates, Wizarding World, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 47
Words: 157,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjagirlmai/pseuds/ninjagirlmai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MAIN STORY: CH 1-43<br/>UNIVERSE-EXPANDING CONTENT: CH 44+</p><p>Three demigods shall travel to the followers of Hecate…<br/>The monster inside lets the dark one blood see…<br/>On the brink of destruction, Poseidon and Athena unite…<br/>The father of blackness has a great insight…<br/>The friend is an enemy,<br/>The enemy a friend…<br/>Against a weak but powerful army,<br/>The child must reveal his true self in the end...</p><p>A year after Gaea's Awakening, Nico di Angelo is chosen to lead a quest to Britain in order to find Tom Riddle, a man who has defied Hades and cheated death twice. With Percy and Annabeth accompanying him, Nico must find and destroy seven horcruxes, navigate through his fifth year at Hogwarts, and deal with his own problems back at Camp Half-Blood, all while hiding the fact that he's a demigod from all the wizards in England. Between a budding romance with a certain son of Apollo, a burning desire to make his father proud, and an old vow against killing mortals, the son of Hades is going to do whatever it takes to outwit the Fates and succeed... or die trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nico Gets A Family Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprised Nico gets a birthday present from his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: (JUNE 29 2017) The cover art is currently missing, we're fixing it, I'm sorry.
> 
> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Self Harm  
> Word Count: 3515 Words
> 
>  
> 
> PLEASE READ THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT (it's a bit long, sorry)
> 
> All the books are canon in this AU. Takes place a year after BoO ends, so Nico, Jason, Piper, and Leo are 16, Percy and Annabeth are 19, and Will's 18. It's end of August, so the whole Leo/Calypso thing cleared up and Leo's back at Camp Half-Blood where he belongs. Also Nico and Will are friends. I might write a prequel to this at some point, I don't know yet.
> 
> Yes, I know that Will should be 16, but for the sake of the story I raised his age a little. Just go with it.
> 
> The fic is inspired by Nico di Angelo and the Rising, by NinthRaconteur. It is unfinished, so if you do want to read it beware of that. I do recommend it, but only if your heart can take it. But seriously, they refer to Voldemort as Voldy von Vomit Face. It was all I could do not to plagiarize that, but then I would be an awful person.
> 
> And now for the story! You made it!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

 

 

 

 

**____________________NICO____________________**  

 

 

Nico woke up with a groan, a few rays of sunlight came into the Hades cabin. Nico hadn’t wanted windows for this exact reason, but Chiron had insisted. He rolled over to try and fall back asleep, accidentally hitting play on his iPod instead. (Lou Ellen enchanted it to ward off monsters - she owed him a favor.) Fall Out Boy blared through the earbuds still in his ears. 

_Gods damn it. I just can’t win, can I?_

Nico slid down from his bunk and dressed, careful not to look at his arms until after he put on his aviator jacket. If he didn’t see it, he didn’t have to think about it. And if he didn’t have to think about it, he could stop. Probably. Ok, maybe not, but whatever made him comfortable, right? Right?

He grabbed his sword and went off to do some early morning training before breakfast. When he got to the combat arena, he saw Percy had the same idea, slashing against some straw dummies. Nico whistled, making Percy turn, a stunned expression on his face.

“Whoa, Nico! You scared me!” Percy exclaimed. 

Nico rolled his eyes. “So the big bad son of Poseidon is afraid of a  sixteen-year-old kid? Wait, it’s me we’re talking about, so yeah, smart.”

Percy laughed, making Nico roll his eyes again. He tried not to smile - it didn’t fit in with the image of a son of Hades. “Sixteen?” Percy asked.

_Shit. I've been awake for less than an hour and I already slipped._

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

“Wait… is it your birthday?” Nico's head nodded a fraction of an inch, his eyes trying to meet Percy’s look of surprise. He hated birthdays, ever since the Lotus he’d stopped celebrating them. Sure, first he just forgot when it was. As time went on, though, it morphed into a desperate longing. His earliest memories were of his birthday back in Italy. He soon remembered his mother's warm smile, Bianca's macaroni cards... He recalled how Mama always lifted him on her lap, and whispered the words to a familiar lullaby in his ear. It became a tradition for her to sing while he tore macaroni off Bianca's card and played with it. All these years later, the Italian words still served as a source of comfort for Nico:

“Fa la ninna, fa la nanna **[Go to sleep, go to sleepy]**  
Nella braccia della mamma     **[In the arms of your mother]**  
Fa la ninna bel bambin,  **[Go to sleep, lovely child,]**  
Fa la nanna bambin bel,   **[Go to sleepy, child so lovely]**  
Fa la ninna, fa la nanna **[Go to sleep, go to sleepy]**  
Nella braccia della mamma.” **[In the arms of your mother]**

Clovis had put him in a trance to surface the memory as a thank you after he'd helped stop Gaea. It was an incredible gift, but it also kind of ruined birthdays for him. Back in the present, Percy seemed to realize the sensitive nature of birthdays for Nico. He decided to change the subject to a more pleasant one.

“Want to duel, di Angelo?”

Nico nodded, walking towards Percy, his Stygian Iron sword at the ready. Percy was good, but so was Nico. Soon a half-hour passed, they were both dripping with sweat, and there was no clear winner. Jason, Piper, and Annabeth had woken up and started to watch the fight; Jason was rooting for Nico while the girls rooted for Percy.

Of course, Percy had to bring it up. “How does it feel to be so unpopular with the girls?”

“Don’t care, so ‘bout normal.”

Nico heard the onlookers laugh. In the back of his mind, he wondered where Will was. A son of Apollo should be up at this hour, and he must hear the noise of the swords. No one could know about Nico’s super secret crush on Will, it would ruin the whole mysterious-recluse-son-of-Hades thing Nico had going for him.

A jab from Riptide broke Nico’s thoughts, bringing them back to the swordfight.

What ended the fight wasn’t a win, nor the conch shell announcing breakfast. It was a voice in Nico’s head, whispering his name, like wind whipping through the trees. “Nico.”

Nico held up his hand to stop Percy from slashing his sword again. There was only one voice that could be. As loud as he could, Nico responded in his thoughts:

_Father?_

“Come to Bunker Nine,” Hades said in that windy whisper. He had to have his helm of darkness on, Nico was sure of it.

“I’ll be right back guys, I just remembered I left something at Bunker Nine.” Nico wasn't exactly amazing at thinking on his feet, but that sounded like a decent excuse to him.

Percy furrowed his eyebrows. “You were in Bunker Nine?”

“Helping Leo. I gotta run before breakfast. I’ll see you guys there.” Nico ran off without further explanation, hoping the excuse was enough... but, it wasn’t. The second he took off, Percy, Annabeth, Jason, and Piper all ran after him. Nico cursed under his breath; his father wouldn’t like other demigods interrupting them - even his friends.

“Faster,” Hades whispered, causing Nico to sprint, the trees zipping by in a hazy blur. Finally, he reached the woods of Bunker Nine. Nico stood, panting, and, in a moment, the god appeared before him. Nico knelt, his head bowed in respect.

“Father.” Nico did his best to make his tone of voice as respectful as it could be under all the panting. He had outrun Percy and the others, thank the gods. “Father, my friends are right behind me. We have maybe ten minutes before they’re within earshot.”

“Then, I’ll be quick.” Hades’ voice beared no emotion; Nico wasn't sure if that was good or bad. “Today is your sixteenth birthday. Today you become a man.” Nico stopped breathing in utter shock. His father… remembered?

“Yes, Father.” Nico silently thanked the gods that his surprise didn't reveal itself in his tone of voice.

“Stand,” Hades commanded. Nico rose. “I am granting you a quest, your own quest. It's what you've always wanted, correct?” Nico nodded, he'd dreamed about that for so long, but he didn’t dare interrupt. “In northern Britain, there is a school for the followers of Hecate.”

_Children of Hecate?_

“Not children, followers," his father continued.

_Great, he can read my mind._

"The followers of Hecate are less powerful than real demigods, but they have power in their own way, given to them by the goddess. They are her chosen people. There is a powerful follower among them: Tom Riddle. He’s cheated death once before; this past summer he did it again. I will not tolerate this insult. I’m sending you to bring his soul to the Underworld.”

Nico nodded again. To cheat death once was unforgivable, but to do it twice? “How’s he managed to get away with this, Father?”

“Riddle created seven horcruxes, spread across England. It's your job to find them... and destroy them.”

Seven horcruxes?! Nico never heard of such a thing! One horcrux, maybe, but even that took advanced magic and skill. His father was right, this follower of Hecate was strong.

The Lord of the Dead continued, this time not addressing Nico's unspoken question. “I don’t care what Hecate’s prophecy says, I’m not waiting another two years for some child to kill him. I want him now.” A dangerous look glinted in Hades' eyes, he looked like he wanted to blast Hecate over that prophecy. Knowing his father, Nico assumed he did. With Hades in such a violent mood, bring that up would get Nico blasted, so, he thought it best to change the subject.

“What do you mean, a child will kill him?”

“A follower of Hecate, about your age - Harry Potter, I believe. According to the prophecy, he’s the key to destroying Riddle. Befriend him, he might be able to help you somehow.”

For a third time, Nico nodded. “I'll be able to sense the horcruxes, right, Father?” It was Hades’ turn to nod. “Can my friends help me? You know, on the quest?” The answer should be yes, since this was a demigod quest, but, Nico figured this was a special case. Gods didn't appear to demigods and assign quests in person. It only seemed right to ask his father’s permission, with all the trouble Hades had gone to to get Nico alone. More than likely, his father wanted the quest done with a particular kind of secrecy. It wouldn't be the first time he'd asked something like that of Nico.

“Who did you have in mind?” Hades’ tone suggested he already knew the answer.

“Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. They’re good fighters and have done this kind of thing before. I could use their help.”

“If their help will make this quest faster, they can go.”

Nico let out a sigh of relief; he didn’t want to go to a strange part of the world alone. The last time he did that… let’s just say it wouldn't surprise him if he ended up in a pickle jar next time.

“I accept the quest,” Nico announced, a sense of pride making its way into his words. “I’ll make you proud. I'll prove myself worthy of being your son.”

“Then you must go to the Oracle.”

Less than a second after the words left his mouth, Hades vanished. Nico’s whole body relaxed, and his breath came easily again. Whether it came from his father's aura, or the knowledge that he was a huge disappointment as a son, Nico always felt edge around the god. But this quest would change everything. He would make Hades proud.

Right on cue, Nico heard the sound of feet thundering towards him. Before anyone could say anything, Nico held up his hand. “Let me explain.” He took no time to tell them the conversation he'd just had with Hades.

“What’s a horcrux?” Piper asked immediately.

“It’s a part of a person’s soul, put into various objects of his or her choosing,” Nico answered. Annabeth, who’d also opened her mouth to speak, looked annoyed that Nico cut her off.

_Dead things are my territory, wise girl._

“It acts like a failsafe,” Nico continued, ignoring Annabeth’s glare. “It sounds innocent enough. You die, you come back with the soul that you stored away. But creating them isn't so innocent, because you have to kill someone to splinter your soul. Then, you perform complex magic to place them in objects. It's a demanding ceremony - I've never heard of anyone doing it, much less seen it myself. No mortal ever does it more than once; not even my father knows of a mortal powerful enough to do such a thing.”

"Why?" Piper asked. Everyone else - except maybe Annabeth - looked too stunned to speak. "Wouldn't, theoretically, it be easier to perform the ceremony each time? Because the person has, you know, killed before?"

"Theoretically, yes," Nico answered. "But, think about it, Piper. You split your soul once, half of it goes into an object. The next time, you have to break that half in half, which means you have less of your soul to work with. Soon, it becomes harder to find, harder to splinter. Not to mention that less soul means less humanity. Whole, intact souls are powerful - they give emotion, sense of self, morality, memory. The less soul a mortal has, the weaker they are, the less alive they are. That makes the ceremony much harder to perform each time."

Jason spoke next. “So, this Riddle guy killed seven people, and is powerful enough to do what no one else has ever done? Even though he's a mortal?”

Nico shrugged. "Basically, yeah." Even Annabeth looked shocked at Nico’s nonchalance about the situation. They shouldn't be, though. Nico had seen enough death to be able to take his emotions out of it.

“Thank the gods I’m going with you, then,” Percy put in. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I can take care of myself, Jackson. Come on, I need to talk to Rachel.”

The five walked back to camp, where Nico told the entire story again to Chiron, Mr. D, and Rachel at the Big House. They were all silent through the whole thing; even Mr. D wouldn’t dare question orders from Hades himself. After he had finished his retelling, his not-so-thrilled audience remained in a palpable silence.

“Come with me.” Rachel motioned towards Nico while she spoke, then walked into the Big House. The son of Hades followed, giving his friends one final look.

Each step he and Rachel took echoed off the walls. His heart pounded with every passing second, his mouth grew dryer and dryer. He'd never spoken to the Oracle before, though he'd heard the stories of when his friends had. He'd seen the mummified Oracle when he was ten, and again in the memory of the death of his mother when he was twelve. Needless to say, the entire concept freaked him out... even if he liked Rachel well enough as a person. Once they were alone, Nico gave himself a second to work up his courage. Then, he looked right into Rachel's eyes, uttering the words he hoped to Hades he wouldn't regret in a minute.

“Tell me what I need to know.”

As usual, Rachel fell into a trance. When she spoke, a raspy voice came out. Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Piper, and Leo all had tried to describe that voice to Nico, but, somehow, they'd all failed to describe its creep factor. Miserably.

“Three demigods shall travel to the followers of Hecate…  
The monster inside lets the dark one blood see…  
On the brink of destruction, Poseidon and Athena unite…  
The father of blackness has a great insight…  
The friend is an enemy,  
The enemy a friend…  
Against a weak but powerful army,  
The child must reveal his true self in the end...”

Nico was still attempting to comprehend what he'd just heard when Rachel fainted. Still in a numbed shock, Nico caught her. His motions were robotic. His mind was quiet. He could only replay what he'd just heard.

Rachel woke up a second later, and stood up. Devoid of emotion, Nico repeated the lines to her. (She had this thing about knowing the prophecies, being the Oracle and all.) They both walked back outside, where the others waited. Nico registered that Leo was there, standing beside Piper. More than likely, he’d noticed none of his friends at breakfast and look for them. Still in his robotic trance, Nico met Rachel's eye. Thank the gods, she understood, and repeated the prophecy for him. All he could think about was that last line. If it was about him... no, it couldn't be.

Annabeth’s voice finally snapped Nico awake. She’d want to discuss the prophecy, and he should be a part of that. “Three demigods shall travel to the followers of Hecate,” Annabeth murmured. “That’s easy enough. But the second line - ”

“ - It’s about me,” Nico interrupted. “Dark one? Has to be me, but what does it mean, the monster inside? And the whole blood thing… does that mean I’m going to die?”

“Don’t say that,” Percy cut in. “It might just mean that a monster attacks from inside wherever we are and you get wounded or something.”

“Maybe,” Annabeth offered, though she didn't look convinced. “But what about the third line? That has to be about Percy and me. I don't see either of our parents helping us on a quest, much less uniting over anything."

"Uniting in battle, maybe?" Jason asked. "But you two do that all the time. Maybe it’s a special fight?”

“The father of blackness has to be Hades,” Piper said. “He's associated with that color, and he's Nico's dad.” Nico agreed, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t guess what his father would find out. That he wasn’t a total disappointment?

“And the friend/enemy thing?” Percy asked.

“I don’t know,” Annabeth admitted. “But I think, since someone is going to betray us, we shouldn’t tell them who we are. They could use it against us.”

“Not trusting people?” Nico questioned. “I can live with that.” That got a laugh from his friends, though Percy also nudged him in the arm with his elbow.

“Trust no one but me, right di Angelo?” The son of Poseidon's teasing tone made Nico scoff.

“Riiiiight. The army would have to be something Riddle and his allies cook up. That way they’d be weak to us but powerful to the other followers of Hecate.”

“And the last line,” Leo prompted them. “It could be any of you guys, right?”

“Yeah,” Nico replied, repeating Leo's words to himself.

_Anyone. Not just me. Anyone._

“I’m going to go pack,” Nico declared. He needed a moment to himself. The morning's events gave him a lot to think about.

“You should,” Chiron agreed. “Best not to  keep the Lord of the Dead waiting.”

At the apparent dismissal, Nico was able to go back to his cabin without anyone raising an eyebrow. When he entered, he found toast on his dresser, complete with Nutella and strawberries. A note sat on the plate. Despite his dyslexia, Nico could recognize the handwriting as Will’s. For some reason, Will had never inherited dyslexia, which meant that he often sent Nico little notes. It took Nico a few minutes to decipher the message, but it was worth it.

‘Saw you weren’t at breakfast, thought you might be hungry. Will.’

Nico allowed himself a small smile, dragging his thumb across the words. Will had thought about him. He’d looked for him, seen he wasn’t there, and decided to act. He knew at his core that someone like Will could never return his feelings, but, still, that kind of caring made Nico’s heart pound with happiness, and skeletal butterflies fly in his stomach.

Nico couldn't help but dream... the outgoing, popular, kind, smart, and - he could admit it - hot son of Apollo? He couldn't help but pray that Will might look his way one day. He knew Will was bisexual, Will had said so himself, but that just made Nico's feelings all the more cruel. At least with Percy, he could blame the unrequited emotions on his sexuality. With Will, Nico knew what those lack of feelings came from. Nico - between his less-than-average looks and messed up personality - had the desirability of dirt. Will wasn't just out of Nico's league, Nico was in a different solar system.

He forced those thoughts from his mind, he had to focus on the quest now. Taking a portion of his food, he stood over one of the green torches in the Hades cabin. “Let me make you proud, father,” Nico prayed, before burning the offering. The smoke smelled comforting, a mixture of rich, deep earth, and fresh clay.

_Mom's garden._

He devoured the rest of his breakfast in seconds flat. Then, he began to pack his things in a duffle bag, a list of the necessities forming in his mind. He kept thinking about what the quest might bring, so he'd know what to pack, but thinking about the quest and prophecy made him more and more anxious. That anxiety triggered stress, which made him obsess on Rachel’s lines even more. Thoughts and emotions cycled, then spiraled, out of control in his mind. He couldn’t let his father down, he couldn’t mess up, he couldn’t -

_Do it._

A voice, a familiar longing, broke through the turmoil in Nico’s brain.

_You know you want to. No one will know. Do it._

A part of Nico protested, but he lost the power to resist. Just as robotic as in the Big House, Nico rose from his bunk. He walked to the bathroom, where a dark towel waited, hidden in the corner. He laid it out, revealing ambrosia, stolen from the Big House, concealed under the cloth. The aviator jacket came off. Stygian iron sword clenched in his hand, lip bit, Nico dragged the blade over one of the scars on his arm...

Pure pain. Pure bliss.

_One, two, three._

Blood poured from the gash in his arm, each drop hitting the towel.

_Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two._

The pain took everything away: his problems, his expectations, his emotions, his self-doubt...

_Sixty._

He stared at the gash in his arm.

_Sixty._

He didn’t want the bliss to end, the pain to stop...

_Sixty. Sixty._

Finally, Nico rubbed a corner of the ambrosia square between his pointer finger and thumb. He smeared it on his wound, then ate the rest. The pain was gone, but Nico felt satisfied. His fears vanished with the pain. He removed his sword, towel, and ambrosia from the bathroom, packing it all. He’d need them in England.

“The child must reveal his true self in the end.” Rachel’s raspy voice echoed in his mind for the millionth time. That line scared Nico more than anything else ever could. But it couldn’t be about him, it couldn’t be about this. No one would ever know.

The issue was, Nico couldn't even convince his own self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t write that Italian lullaby. You can find the words, and an audio recording of it being sung here.
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: Lissy Rose  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), [Fairn](http://crystallineabyss.tumblr.com)  
> Other: [Viviana - Cover Artist](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	2. Percy Carries Nico Bridal Style into King's Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The questing demigods say goodbye to Camp Half-Blood, and hello to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 4766 Words
> 
>    
> Surprise in the end notes!
> 
> I don’t think this’ll bother anyone, which is why I didn’t add it to the trigger warning, but I have a little kissing in this chapter. It’s JUST KISSING, but I described it a little… well, you’ll see. You can skip those paragraphs if it’s too much, I won’t mind.
> 
> I use "Neeks" instead of "Death Boy" because I like it better. Don't judge. (Also I just gave away who's showing up in this chapter, oh well). 
> 
> Thank you for all the support this is getting, it means a lot. I don't think I've ever gotten bookmarks on a story before, so this is really exciting!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

Nico hummed along to a My Chemical Romance song on his iPod while he finished his packing. He was just finishing his last sweep of the cabin when he heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!” He took one of his earbuds out. He expected it to be Percy or Annabeth, telling him to move his butt so they could get started on the quest. Instead, he found himself face to face with someone else.

Will Solace.

“Why is it that I had to hear about this quest from Kayla?” Will asked, his irritation evident in his voice. Nico forced himself to look Will in the eye like a normal person would.

 _Don’t think about how blue those eyes are._  

Those instructions turned out to be counterproductive, because that soon became all Nico could think about. 

“I’ve got better things to do than talk to you, Solace.” Nico let just enough snark drip into his tone so it could come off as teasing, but not cruel. This was how he and Will worked; they argued and teased in a way that Nico didn’t dare to hope was flirtatious.

_It is with me. I’m so far gone it’s pathetic._

“Too bad. I thought we were friends...” Will’s voice trailed off, sarcasm still intact. Nico rolled his eyes just enough so Will would notice. He only watched as the son of Apollo walked towards him at a snail's pace, teasing smile on his lips. Those perfect lips… it was all Nico could do not to shove Will against the wall and kiss him senseless.

Will stood right in front of him now. He took the earbud dangling at Nico’s side, and pluggged it in his own ear. The closeness made Nico’s heartbeat about a million miles an hour. “The Ghost of You.” Will smiled knowingly. “Classic Neeks.”

“You know I hate that nickname.”

“Still avoiding the question?”

“Things just got… busy, ok? I, um, got busy.”

_Idiot! Of all the things to come out of my mouth…_

“You could die, Nico, and that’s all I get? Is that the best goodbye you could come up with?”

Will reached into Nico’s pocket, removing the iPod. Time seemed to freeze in that very second, and Nico’s senses went into overdrive. He could feel the ghost of Will’s hand on his leg, hear the little click echo when the pause button was hit. 

Silence.

Will’s other hand drifted up to Nico’s forehead, then moved some hair out of his eyes.

_Is Will… is he… does he…_

Nico wasn’t able to form a coherent thought, not with the way Will was playing with is hair. He had never done this before. Nico’s heart pounded with such ferocity there was no way Will couldn't hear it. His skin felt aflame from the closeness... the way Will twirled his bangs around his finger...

Will looked at the ground, then back at Nico, then smiled. “I’ll help you bring your stuff out, I guess.” He started to back away. Acting on pure, irrational instinct, Nico grabbed his hand to stop him. Will gulped. “I thought you hate to be touched.” The words came out as little more than a whisper; Will's lips less than an inch from Nico’s.

“You never listen to what I say anyway.” Nico closed the gap separating their faces. Their lips brushed for half a second, then, his sudden confidence gone, Nico pulled away. His and Will’s foreheads touched, heads so close Nico could feel the heat of other boy’s breath. They held in that position for a long second, relishing in the impromptu moment.

Once it was over, however, embarrassment crept up on Nico’s cheeks. Will hadn’t even kissed him back.

_Does he not like me?_

“I – I’m sorry if you didn’t want to do that, Will, I mean – ”

That was the moment Will decided to kiss him back. Nico’s iPod dropped from his hand thoughtlessly, dropping to the cabin floor. The earbuds ripped out of both the boys’ ears, also falling unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. Neither boy cared, they didn’t even notice. Will was too busy, his body pushing Nico against the wall of the Hades cabin, hips moving slightly as he drowned in the scent of his partner. Nico allowed his hands to explore Will's curly locks, eyes clenched tight with passion and teeth nibbling on Will’s bottom lip. The kiss was perfect - heated, passionate, emotional, gentle, and innocent all at the same time. It was everything Nico had ever dreamed of and more.

Will drew his lips back first, gasping for air. “I didn’t think you liked me back,” he panted.

“Neither did I,” Nico admitted.

Will gave an adorkable smirk, then moved his lips to Nico’s neck. Nico’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but the all-consuming passion of their first kiss had lost its potency. Thoughts of his quest, and his promise to his father, returned. Like Chiron said, it was best not to keep his father waiting; even over something as important as kissing Will.

“My quest,” Nico mumbled. “Someone’s going to come in here and see us.”

That made Will pull away. Part of Nico begged him not to. “Yeah, that would be kinda awkward.” Both boys laughed, so overcome with raw emotion neither could function. “You’d better talk to me every day while you’re in Britain.”

Nico placed one last, long and lingering kiss on Will’s lips. “I’ll Iris message you the minute I can. Now help me with my stuff.” Will cocked his head to the side and shook it in disappointment, like Nico was some kind of hopeless case. Nico didn’t want to admit how utterly adorable it was. The two boys walked out the Hades cabin together, acting calm, inconspicuous, like they hadn't just exited a make-out session. 

“Hey, di Angelo! We were about to start searching for you!” Percy's shout greeted the boys when they walked onto the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Nico imagined what Percy would've done had he walked in on the kissing a few minutes prior. One look at Will confirmed he was thinking the same thing. Brown eyes met blue, and then they both doubled over, laughing like hyenas. They couldn't help it - emotions were running high after what just happened in the cabin. Percy and Annabeth exchanged a look of their own, one of utter confusion.

“Sorry,” Nico apologized, forcing himself to stop laughing. “You had to be there.” Will cracked up with that, making Percy and Annabeth look even more confused. Finally, Will got himself under control and waved one last goodbye to the three of them. Then, he left for his cabin to get ready for dinner. 

“Um, what was that about?” Annabeth asked.

Nico wiped the smile off his face, getting himself under control. He shrugged with nonchalance, slung his bag over his shoulder, and looked around. He wanted to engrave the valley in his mind, it could be months before he saw it again. “It’s nothing. Grab your stuff and take my hands, guys.” 

Percy raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re letting us touch you?” Percy's voice filled with sass, reminding Nico of Will’s taunts just before.

 _Eyes on the prize, di Angelo. Not on_ your _super hot... um... is he your boyfriend now?_

“First and last time in your life, Jackson,” Nico replied. He forced Will from his thoughts; whatever they were or weren't would have to wait. With a confidence befitting only a child of the Underworld, Nico ran into the darkness of the evening’s light, his friends beside him. Three bodies melted into the shadows of the trees a second before they hit them.

 

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

The three demigods emerged at King’s Cross Station, after a few seconds of the high-speed tunnels Annabeth associated with shadow traveling. Not her favorite mode of transport, to say the least, but, it did the job.

Now in public again, Annabeth looked around making sure no one had seen them emerge from the shadows. From the lack of bewildered stares, no one had. Smartly, Nico had picked a secluded corner of the station for them to enter though, so few mortals were anywhere near.

The moment his feet hit the ground, Nico's knees buckled. He dropped like a fly, into Percy's waiting arms. "Long journey, for him," Percy noted. 

Annabeth nodded. That was pretty obvious.“You’ll have to carry him while we find our way around here.” Annabeth fished around in her bag for the tickets Chiron gave them. “Platform nine and three-quarters? Where’s that?”

Percy shrugged, to the best of his ability with Nico in his arms, anyway. “I know about as much as you.”

"We'll have to look around for it, then." Annabeth scooped up Nico's bag, which had dropped on the floor when he'd fainted. Percy, who'd found a sign declaring the nearest platform ‘Platform Five’, began to walk down the long corridor with Annabeth on his tail. They made their way to platform nine, figuring that's around where their platform would be. But, Annabeth didn't see any signs with fractions on them as they walked, which made her nervous.

Annabeth thought they must look odd to the mortals, with an unconscious boy in their arms and no adults in sight. If they did, however, no one noticed. Annabeth knew it might be the mist, covering up a possible example of magic from the mortals. But, that was a long-shot, since the Mist didn't tend to deal with demigod embarrassments or societal norms. Much more likely, the lack of stares came from the big city aura Annabeth was all too familiar with. With so many people in big cities like London (or San Francisco), weird became the norm. Locals saw so much weird stuff that, as long as it didn't affect them, the didn't care. Sometimes, that reality worked more in the favor the the magical world than the Mist.

Just as Annabeth feared, platform nine and three-quarters didn't exist. There was a platform nine, a platform ten, and a brick wall between them. But, the train wasn't set to leave until eleven the next morning, which gave her and Percy time to figure out the issue. It was about ten at night in London (EST plus five hours equaled GMT - it had been five when they left camp), so, they could find a place to rest and form a plan. Annabeth figured that a good night’s sleep would allow her to address the issue with a clear head, instead of wasting time staying here and freaking out.

“We’ll worry about finding the train tomorrow, Percy. Right now, we should find a motel or someplace cheap for Nico to sleep.” Percy agreed readily, his fatigue from carrying Nico so long apparent in his face.

Annabeth double checked how much mortal money they had as they walked out of the station. They had the standard amount for quests: seventy pounds, equivalent to about one hundred dollars. Since the followers of Hecate had their own currency, and the quest took place in that world, Annabeth figured they wouldn't need to rely on pounds much. So, it wasn't as necessary to conserve them as it was on other quests, meaning they could splurge on a motel. Having spent the majority of her quests sleeping on mounds of dirt or circus trucks, a bed-bug infested motel seemed like an upgrade.

They checked into a motel about a mile from the station. It was nicer than Annabeth expected. At least, there weren't bed bugs, fleas, or dust anywhere. The room was pretty standard, two double beds, a couch, and a chest of drawers for storage. Once they got their room, Percy laid Nico down on the bed, fixing the pillows under Nico's head with care.

“Why do you do that?” Annabeth asked.

Percy looked up from Nico, his eyebrows knit together. “Do what?"

“Act like that, with Nico. Like he’s your little brother or something. I mean, I know he’s our friend and all, but you always go the extra mile with him.”

“I do? Like when?”

“Like just now, fixing the pillows and stuff. You wouldn’t do that for too many other people.”

Percy looked back down at Nico, chest rising and falling. He gave a small, warm smile. “I dunno. He is my first cousin, after all. I just feel protective of him, especially 'cause it’s kind of my fault he’s got no mortal family left. Maybe I do think of him as my brother… I just feel like he needs someone, and if that someone’s me, so be it.”

Annabeth couldn't help but give a smile of her own. She crossed the room, pulled him close, and placed a small kiss on her boyfriend’s lips. “That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard you say. But Bianca’s death wasn’t your fault. And he has Hazel.”

Percy nodded, drawing Annabeth in a little closer. “I know. But Hazel can’t be here all the time, and Bianca… I promised Nico I’d protect her. When I couldn’t do that, I told Bianca that I’d take care of him.” His eyes moved back to Nico for half a second. “I won’t break that promise. It was practically Bianca’s dying wish.”

Annabeth understood that. Or, at least, she understood the way that kind of duty felt. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just held her boyfriend close, drinking in the moment. With her head resting on his shoulder, she felt completely and utterly at peace.

_I love you, seaweed brain._

**____________________NICO____________________**

It took Nico a moment to get his bearings once he woke. Without opening his eyes, he could tell that he was moving pretty fast, and, based on the numerous voices around him, he was in some kind of crowd. He knew he should wake himself up, but the urge to fall back asleep overwhelmed him. After some self-coaxing, he opened his eyes, allowing a flood of blurry images to enter his brain. Around him, he saw brick walls and towering glass ceilings - he was in King's Cross Station. Despite his groggy brain, Nico realized - with a jolt - what was going on. He was in Percy's arms, rushing down the platforms. In broad daylight. In public. Bridal-style.

_There goes any sense of pride I might've had._

Waking up from a long shadow travel made him feel like he’d recovered from a general anesthetic, making it impossible for him to express his embarrassment as eloquently as he would like.

“Percy!" Nico demanded, his voice weak but hostile. "Put me down!”

_Yeah, that works._

Percy and Annabeth stopped running. Percy even looked down at him in surprise, like he was the one who just woke in the arms of his former crush, embarrassed, in public, and probably getting weird looks from strangers. “Sorry, Nico. The train leaves in ten minutes. It was getting too late to wait for you to wake up.”

At long last, he lowered Nico onto shaky feet. It took him a few moments to steady himself, but he managed it, plus another annoyed glare. “Haven’t you ever heard of waking somebody up?”

“We tried,” Annabeth countered. “For a good fifteen minutes. That’s why we’re rushing.”

“Sorry,” Nico apologized, more embarrassment creeping up on his cheeks. He hated being weak and helpless, even for a little while. “Shadow traveling this far takes a lot out of me.”

“No one’s blaming you,” Percy assured him. “We just need to figure out how to get to a platform that doesn’t exist.”

As the three walked (Nico didn’t trust himself running) to platforms nine and ten, Annabeth filled him in on their search the day before. “If worst comes to worst, we can always shadow travel again,” Nico pointed out.

Annabeth shook her head. “We can’t.You don’t know where the school is precisely, so we might get lost.  
A) You don’t know where the school is precisely, so we might get lost.  
B) It would take too much out of you, and you’d pass out again, this time for longer. And,  
C) We agreed to keep our heads down and not reveal who we are unless absolutely necessary. How would it look if three kids appeared out of thin air from the shadows? Anyone who knew about the gods would know that one of us is a son of Hades.”

She was right, but Nico’s concern was growing. They had maybe ten minutes until their only mode of transport to the quest would leave without them. He’d promised his father he wouldn’t fail, and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. For a quest intended to make Hades proud, failing in a day would not have the desired effect.

With seven minutes to go, Nico heard salvation. “Come on, platform nine and three-quarters is right over there. Sirius, stop chasing cats!”

Sirius had to be their dog, as there was a black bear-like creature chasing, what else? A cat, scared out of its wits. This spectacle caused one of the boys in the group – a boy with glasses and brown hair – to shake with laughter.

Annabeth, with the same idea as Nico, walked over to the woman in charge, a plump, ginger in her early forties. “Excuse me, ma’am, did you say platform nine and three-quarters?”

The woman smiled, though she looked confused. “A bit old to be a first year, my dear.”

“It’s my seventh year, technically,” Annabeth answered. It was almost like she’d practiced... which she probably had. “I’m an exchange student from America. I’m Annabeth, that’s my boyfriend Percy and his cousin Nico. Percy’s in seventh year too, but Nico’s in fifth. We’re just confused, we’ve never been to England before.”

The woman gave a tender smile. “I’m Molly Weasley. My son Ron and his friends Harry and Hermione are in fifth year, too.” She turned to a ginger-haired boy, a girl standing next to him, and the boy who’d been laughing at the dog. They all looked around Nico’s age. “Ron! Harry! Hermione! Meet these new students, one of them is going to be in your year.”

The girl, Hermione, ran up to Nico and shook his hand. “I’m Hermione. So you’re from America? What’s it like? I’ve never been!”

Nico recoiled slightly, shocked with the onslaught of her sudden curiousity. “Um, about the same…?”

“But it’s supposed to be rainy here,” Percy cut in. “And you’re all supposed to be proper and stuff, right? With those double-brimmed hats and wooden pipes and - ”

Annabeth shot Percy a look, then turned back to the confused Hermione. “Sorry about him. He has a stupid sense of humor.”

“Hey!” Percy protested. “It’s part of my charm!” The entire situation was so absurd that even the adults gave a little chuckle.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley calmed them down. “Harry, Ron, Hermione, you stay with Lupin while I take these dears to the platform.” A shaggy man Nico hadn’t noticed before stepped forward. He ushered the kids to the side, while Mrs. Weasley guided the demigods to the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. Nico turned back, watching Lupin and another man with an electric blue eye talking to the kids. With the serious looks on their faces, it reminded Nico of battle-planning at camp. Harry looked up and locked eyes with him, sending a clear message.

'This is none of your business.'

It was only for a second, but it was enough to make Nico's blood boil. He didn't have long to process the anger, though, because Mrs. Weasley started to talk. “You just run into this wall, and it will take you to the platform.”

“Running into walls? This should be your specialty, Neeks,” Percy teased.

Nico groaned at the stupid nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why? Will does it.”

“And I tell him the same thing. He just doesn’t listen. I’m starting to think it’s worse than ‘death boy.’”

Mrs. Weasley looked confused at the exchange. “Why would running into walls - ” She cut herself off with a shake of the head. “It’s none of my business. On you go.”

Nico took his bag from Annabeth, who was still holding it from the time he was unconscious. He sprinted at the wall, bracing himself for an impact that never came. When he opened his eyes, a new world greeted him. Hundreds of school-age children mulled around the platform, dragging trunks or kissing parents good-bye. In front of him stood a scarlet steam engine, maybe twenty feet across at its widest. Nico shuddered at the thought of boarding the thing. It looked like an ADHD kid's nightmare.

Soon after, Percy tore through the other side of the wall, then Annabeth, then Mrs. Weasley.

“Whoa,” Percy muttered, staring at the train. “That thing is… red.”

A few moments later, Mrs. Weasley’s family and the others got to the platform. The train whistled like it was about to leave. “Quick, quick,” Mrs. Weasley cried, hugging the kids hurrying onto the train - except for the demigods, of course. “Write… Be good… If you’ve forgotten anything, we’ll send it on… Onto the train now, hurry…”

Percy, Annabeth, and Nico boarded the train alongside Mrs. Weasley's charges. When Nico gave her one last glance, he noticed the big black dog, Sirius, standing on his hind legs. While that itself was normal enough for such a large dog, Sirius had his paws on Harry’s shoulder in a way that was almost human-like. Harry, standing in the doorway of the train, acted like that was perfectly normal. That didn’t seem right to Nico.

“See you!” Harry called out the windows of the train. Now that they were on their way to Hogwarts, Nico’s anxiety cleared. Now unoccupied, the infuriating memory of Harry's look came to the forefront of Nico's mind. He wanted to know what that kid was hiding, why those adults had talked to him like a battle-tested soldier. He scoured his brain for anything he might've heard to explain it. Then, his father’s voice came back to him:

"A follower of Hecate, about your age - Harry Potter, I believe. According to the prophecy, he’s the key to destroying Riddle. "

Nico wanted to hit himself from his stupidity, this was the boy he needed to befriend!

He stopped walking up the train’s aisle and turned towards Harry. Though his friends - Ron and Hermione - had disappeared, Harry wasn't alone. Another ginger, a girl that looked about a year younger than him, talked to him about finding a place to sit.

_Probably another Weasley, by the looks of her._

Annabeth, standing in front of him, turned her head to look at Nico.“Are you coming?”

Nico motioned his head towards Harry. “I think that’s the kid my father told me to befriend. Let's wait for them, see if we can sit with them.” Annabeth nodded in agreement, then passed the message up the aisle to Percy. Nico called over to the girl and Harry, “Hey! Can we sit with you?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, throwing shade towards Nico and his friends. But, the girl smiled and nodded. “Sure! I’m Ginny. Our friends are around here somewhere, I’ll introduce you.”

As the group walked down the aisle, dozens of people shot them weird looks. They strained for a look at the group from their compartment windows, whispering or pointing. Nico got the sense that something was going on, something he didn't know about. He turned to Ginny. “Why do they keep pointing?”

"They're looking at Harry, obviously."

"Why?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know who he is?”

Nico shook his head. “No, I’m not from here.”

Ginny gave a small smile, like Nico was acting cute or something. "He’s He’s Harry Potter, the boy who lived!”

_The boy who lived? Isn’t every boy ever born a boy who lived? What makes Harry Potter so special?_

"Um... ok... but, why are those kids pointing at him?" Nico questioned.

Ginny sighed. “The Daily Prophet, our newspaper, has been spreading some lies about him. I think those idiots think they’re true.”

They reached the end of the train. Ginny's friends were somewhat... odd. Nico saw a boy carrying a huge, mud-colored toad, a blond girl staring, glassy-eyed, at a magazine... the usual. Nico didn’t pay them too much attention, though, since he knew he had the same weirdo aura. If these people didn’t care, he could do his best not to care either - even if that blond girl did look like she was high.

Nico sat on the window side of Percy, put his duffel on his lap, then fished around in it until he found a golden drachma. He put it in his pocket before anyone noticed the coin, then shoved the bag under his seat. He needed the drachma so he could IM Will later, but he didn't want Percy or Annabeth to notice how soon he made a call home. The last thing he needed were those two questioning him about Will.

In all honesty, Nico wanted to keep his budding relationship with the son of Apollo secret. Well, maybe not secret, but he didn't want to advertise it until he knew where the two stood. There was no reason to inform his friends about something that, with Nico’s luck, would end by sunset. In flames.

Annabeth, sitting on the aisle side of Percy, began to question Ginny and her friends about Hogwarts. Together, they explained the house system, the different classes, the trips to Hogsmeade, etcetera. Ginny did most of the talking, though her friends - Neville and Luna - chimed in every once in awhile. Only Harry remained silent, his eyes fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. Nico had to admit, Hogwarts sounded pretty cool. Oddly complicated, but cool.

After learning about the co-ed Quidditch teams, Harry decided he’d moped enough. Instead of cheering up, he decided to try and ruin everything for the rest of them. “Aren’t you guys exchange students?" His voice dripped with hostility, eyes rested on each demigod individually, landing on Nico last. "Shouldn’t you know all that already?”

Annoyance flashed in Annabeth’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Nico realized that whatever she said, it would look suspicious. So, he decided to go with the foolproof change-the-topic distraction route. He stood suddenly, announcing, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Nico got up, taking a little more time, noise, and energy than he needed to while moving to the aisle. When he broke free of Annabeth’s legs, the suspicious feeling had left the air.

_Mission accomplished._

Before he made it to the next car, however, Nico heard some shuffling behind him. He glanced back, and saw Harry standing in the aisle, too, making his own way forward. That stupid follower of Hecate was following him! Despite direct his orders from his father, Nico decided then and there that he would not befriend that stupid teenager, period. What use could a mortal be to a quest, anyway?

Nico continued to walk until he reached the outside of the bathroom. The car was deserted, minus Harry, of course. Seizing the opportunity, Nico turned and gave the boy behind him a dark look. “Quit following me.”

Harry eyed him right back. “And why should I listen to the requests of an eavesdropper?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was looking at what was going on. You didn’t need to look at me like that.”

That earned a scoff from Harry. “And your father told you to befriend me? How am I supposed to take that?”

How did he know that? He must’ve eavesdropped on a conversation of his own, the hypocrite. “I don’t care how you take it, quit butting into my business and leave me alone.”

Harry, taller than Nico, used that height to his advantage. He patted his wand in a threatening manner, his countenance growing darker and more dangerous by the second. “You’re acting awfully secretive, Nico. And there’s a war going on. I’m going to find out who you and your friends are, if it’s the last thing I do.”

Overcome with anger, Nico drew his sword and pointed the tip at Harry. If anyone found out who he was, his friends would be in danger. Monsters would attack. “You stay away from my friends and me, you got me?”

Harry glanced at the sword on his chest. How could he know that it wouldn't hurt him, even if Nico plunged it into his stomach? “If I find out you’re a death eater, you’re going to be very sorry.” Harry turned around and went back into the compartment, leaving Nico alone to wonder who in Hades’ name would want to eat Thanatos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful Viviana di Chiara did a drawing of the opening scene!
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
>  Author: [Lissy Rose](http://solangelo-is-my-life.tumblr.com)  
>  Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), [Fairn](http://crystallineabyss.tumblr.com)  
>  Other: [Viviana di Chiara - Artist](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com)  
>   
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	3. It Turns Out Talking Magical Hats are a Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hogwarts Express pulls into Hogwarts, and the sorting begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Mild Cursing  
> Word Count: 4917
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

The time on Nico’s iPod read 6:15 am. It was still set to the East Coast, meaning that Will would be on his morning jog in the woods. Nico still felt angry at Harry, but his time alone had lessened his temper considerably. Now, all he wanted to do was talk to Will.

Once alone in the train's bathroom, Nico turned the sink as high as it would go. The jet of water created mist in the sink, allowing the window-light to make a rainbow. Nico threw the drachma into the spray, and chanted the incantation. “O Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering. Will Solace at Camp Half-Blood.”

The mist shimmered, and, just as Nico expected, Will appeared alone in the woods. He wore a sweaty, orange, Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and basketball shorts. Jogging clothes.

Noticing the Iris message, Will stopped his workout, smiling his radiant smile. “Neeks! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon!”

Nico's heart fluttered at Will's voice. That didn't seem too son-of-Hades-y, so he tried to cover that reaction up with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t call me that, Will. And yeah, neither did I, but I got a second on this train, so I figured why not?”

Will’s smile widened. “I’m glad. We kind of left on a weird note, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been good with this sort of thing.”

“Then I’ll walk you through it.” Will's sounded so gentle, so loving... beyond words. Nico could only bask in his good fortune. This boy, this amazing, perfect boy, liked him? Romantically? “I like you, Nico. I like you a lot. Do you like me?”

_More than I ever thought possible._

“Yeah, Will. I do.”

“Then, do you want to go out with me? I mean, I know you're on a quest, but, when you come back, would you like to go on a date?”

"Sounds perfect."

Will let loose an involuntary smile of his own. "And, in the meantime, do you want to try a long-distance thing? No strings attached, of course, and we don’t have to, but - "

"Will!" Nico stopped the Solace-ramble before it could start. "I want strings attached. All the strings attached. I want you as my boyfriend, even if we're in different countries right now."

A laugh left Nico’s throat when he saw the way Will's face lit up. He looked like a little kid who just found out he'd won a trip to Disney World. “That’s – wow, cool! Yeah, Nico, sure! Of course!”

The whole thing felt so surreal. Two days ago, this kind of reaction from Will existed in the deepest parts of Nico's imagination. The part he never let see the light of day. Now, that same boy acted like he was the most incredible miracle ever created by the gods. He liked him, he really liked him. Will Solace, the golden boy, liked Nico di Angelo, the weird emo kid. In what universe was that possible?

Still, there was one condition. And he had to make sure Will was fine with it. “Will? Can we keep this relationship thing between us, at least for now? I don’t want to advertise things yet - you know how camp gets with couples. All those rumors, all that attention... I've never been in a relationship before, you know? I don't want anyone to ruin it with all that. I'm not saying we have to keep this a secret forever, but is for now all right?”

Nico didn't want to meet Will's eye. It felt like he was saying he felt ashamed of Will, which he wasn’t. At all. He just needed to make sure the relationship was enough to make everyone's gossip worth it. That it would last long enough, that it wouldn't backfire, that it would add to Nico's happiness instead of detracting from it. But, Nico wasn’t the best with words, he didn’t know how to get all those confusing emotions across.

Will thought the request over for a minute. His face gave no insight into his thoughts. "I understand. My first girlfriend and I ended up breaking up over stupid rumors a month after we got together. I mean, it was the eighth grade, so I'm not sure if that counts but... the point is, I get it. Not a problem. Anything for you." Nico’s face broke into a smile.

_William Adam Solace. Could you be any more perfect?_

Will stared openly at Nico, complete teasing smile and bit lip. “It's cute, seeing you smile like that. Your eyes light up and stuff."

"My eyes do not light up."

"Yes, they do. Like a Christmas tree. "

"Shut up, Solace." They both laughed, adding to Nico’s elation.

"We've been talking for almost ten minutes, Nico. Don't you need to get back to Hecate land?"

Nico sighed, he knew Will was right. “Yeah. Knowing Percy, he’d think a drakon found its way into the bathroom. I’ll talk to you soon, Will.”

“See you, Nico.” Nico turned off the sink water, and the connection broke. He took a moment to compose himself, so he wouldn't go in public with the idiotic grin he saw in the mirror.

When he got back to his compartment, sticky, foul-smelling sap covered every seat, object, and person. Percy, Annabeth, Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Luna all looked like chemists after an experiment gone wrong. Nico stared at them in shock. “I swear I was gone ten minutes, max. What in Hades’ name happened?”

“Well,” Percy started, “Neville has an exploding plant, and Harry has a crush on an Asian girl that just popped by. Other than that, nothing much.” Neville and Harry both looked embarrassed, which Nico couldn’t blame. Though, he was happy karma had caught up with Harry.

Nico took one last look at his surroundings, then shrugged. "Whatever. You guys are all completely insane." He sat back down by the window, half-listening to the conversations around him as he stared at the rolling, green hills race by.

Ron and Hermione showed up a little later. Like at the station, Hermione pelted him and his friends with questions about their lives in America, but, this time, Annabeth fed her a fake but believable story. According to her, they lived in a boarding school on Long Island, enrolling at age eleven like at Hogwarts. Alongside magical classes, they learned mortal things like math and science. It wasn’t entirely untrue, minus the math and science part. Most of the followers of Hecate ate up the story, but Nico could see Harry eyeing Annabeth as she talked. Could that kid get any more annoying?

The rest of the train ride passed with ease. Everyone (minus Harry) enjoyed the demigods' company, making the atmosphere warm and welcoming. They didn't show Harry's hostility, in fact, they acted slightly surprised at Harry's' behavior. They didn’t say anything, though, which made Nico think Harry often got into moods like this.

_If that’s the case, maybe he should enroll in some anger management classes. He really needs them._

Near the end of the train ride, a blond kid walked into the compartment, two goons at his side. They were so big, stupid, and ugly that they reminded Nico of laestrygonians. The blond kid seemed to hate Harry, which made Nico like him, but then he ruined it by opening his mouth. Nico didn't quite listen to what was going on, but he got the gist of it. Enough to know that the kid was an entitled, stuck-up brat that Nico wanted nothing to do with, anyway. His talk reminded Nico of all the snobby rich kids at Westover Hall, who teased him and Bianca for being orphans.

The blond boy turned to face the demigods themselves, getting Nico’s full attention. “Potter’s new lackies?" he asked, voice thick with contempt. "Haven’t you read the papers? If you want to survive at this school, you’ll want to get as far away from him as possible. I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. I'm warning you, you don’t want the company of these mudbloods and blood traitors.”

Everyone gasped at the word ‘mudblood,’ making Nico assume it was a derogatory term. Percy, thinking along the same lines as Nico, beat him to the retort.

“Not like it matters, with a head so big I’m surprised you even fit into the compartment. You’re complete trash, Malfoy.”

Malfoy's cold laugh echoed throughout the car. “Clueless and American? This is too easy.”

“Stop being a - what would a British person say?" Percy mocked thinking for a moment. "An ‘elitist prick’? Yeah, sounds about right. I could wipe that smile off your face in a second, if I wanted to.”

Malfoy reached for his wand, no doubt to hex Percy. But, Percy wouldn't be able to fight back with magic, which would raise all sorts of questions. To keep that from happening, Nico gave Malfoy his best death stare, to try and scare him off. Considering he was the son of Hades, Nico was pretty good at giving death stares. As he’d hoped, Malfoy’s eyes widened in fear, and the coward fled with his laestrygonians behind him.

“That. Was. Amazing,” Ron said, awestruck.

“It was all Nico,” Percy replied, slapping him on the back. “That death stare could kill anyone.” Nico rolled his eyes, but gave a proud smile. He enjoyed the attention for another few seconds, then pulled out his iPod. He felt like listening to some music.

“That’s not going to work once we get to Hogwarts,” Hermione told him. “Mortal devices get too much interference with all the magic in the air.”

“I got one of my friends back home to enchant it. It’ll work.” He put his earbuds in, cranked up _Far Too Young to Die_ by _Panic! at the Disco_ , and stared out the window again as the others talked around him. Soon the castle came into view, and everyone changed into their Hogwarts robes. Nico hated the idea of wearing a uniform, he never even wore those camp shirts, but he knew that they had to wear the Hogwarts robes in order to blend in. At least these garments were black - Nico recoiled at the idea of putting on any color as bright and clownish as the train's shade of scarlet.

The train pulled to a stop in a little village, Hogsmeade, according to Ginny. Outside the platform, people entered carriages, pulled by skeletal horses.

“Thestrals!" Annabeth cried. "Aren’t those creatures of the underworld, Nico? What are they doing here?”

Nico shrugged. “I guess it’s like us using pegasi. My father and Hecate created them together, so her followers might have some kind of power over them.”

“I can’t hear them like I can pegasi,” Percy noted.

“Probably because they’re not actual horses,” Annabeth guessed. “More like winged hellhounds, they just look like horses.”

“Whatever.” Percy eyed them with intrigue, as he climbed into the carriage with his friends.

The ride took only a few minutes. When they reached the castle, a man pulled them aside. His greasy, black hair fell to his chin, with a pointed chin and hooked nose to complete the 'raven' look. “I’m Professor Severus Snape. Your activities director contacted our Headmaster about the... specifics of your time here. I hope they prove fruitful.”

He spoke to Nico, no doubt Chiron had mentioned he was leading the quest. “I hope so too, Professor Snape, sir.” Nio thought it best to be polite. That man didn't look easy-going, to say the least.

“You three will be sorted with the first years,” Snape continued. “And, the Headmaster wishes to speak with you after the feast has ended. Only he and I know about the quest - you are not to tell any other soul about it in Hogwarts under any circumstances. No teacher, student, magical object or anyone - or thing - are exempt from this. Now, I must return to the Great Hall.” He turned with a slight swish of his cloak, leaving the demigods alone in the hall. They made their way towards the first years, who were chatting nervously in front of a stern-looking female professor.

Finally, the doors in front of them opened, and the Great Hall came into view. It was incredible, ten times bigger than the dining pavilion at Camp Half-Blood. The ceiling was the same color as the sky, and stars were starting to appear as the sun set. The ceiling had to have some sort of enchantment to contain that kind of realism. Four long tables with hundreds of students filled the hall, with a teachers’ table in the front. It was a beautiful and inspiring sight, and this was coming from Nico di Angelo. Annabeth gasped behind him, looking around the room, marveling at the structures and architecture. It must’ve been heaven for her.

As they stared at their surroundings, the female professor placed a stool in front of them. On top of the stool sat an old, tattered, brown hat. Everyone in the hall stared at the hat, waiting for... something. Nico stood in utter confusion, until a rip on the hat's front opened like a mouth, and it started to sing.

Throughout the entire song, one thought ran through Nico's mind:

_The fuck...?_

He and Percy exchanged looks; Percy seemed just as confused as Nico. Annabeth, however, watched the hat with puzzled interest, like an especially odd children’s cartoon. The entire thing seemed so absurd to Nico, to the point where he couldn't even comprehend the words of the hat’s song. He cracked a smile at Percy, his head tilted towards Annabeth. “Only a child of Athena, right?”

Percy suppressed a smile. “Imagine if Mr. D greeted us with a song on the first day of summer.” Nico had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing at that image.

Annabeth glared at them, loudly whispering, “Would you two shut up? You’re worse than children of Aphrodite!” They both gave her a silent apology, and focused back on the hat, who’d finished the song.

The female professor from before stood at the front of the Great Hall with a piece of paper - no, parchment, for some reason - in her hand. “We will have three American exchange students with us at Hogwarts for the duration of the year: Annabeth Chase, seventh year, Nico di Angelo, fifth year, and Percy Jackson, seventh year. Their sorting will take place with the first years. Abercrombie, Euan!”

“Abercrombie? Isn’t that, like, a clothing store?” Percy asked. Annabeth shushed him again.

Nico watched as the young boy got on the stool, terrified. The hat sat on his head for a minute, before it declared, “GRYFFINDOR!” The scarlet and gold table clapped as Euan moved towards it, his terror replaced with a nervous smile.

Name after name found itself sorted, each eleven-year-old with various degrees of fear or excitement when in the spotlight. After Irish Carver joined the yellow and black Hufflepuffs, the female professor called, “Chase, Annabeth!”

Annabeth strode to the stool and sat, hat placed on her head. The second the brim made contact with the top of her head, the hat shouted, “RAVENCLAW!” The blue and bronze table clapped as Annabeth moved towards it. She smiled reassuringly at Percy and Nico, then sat next to an Asian girl and her curly-haired friend, who’d moved over to give her a spot on the bench.

Unfortunately, Annabeth was the last 'C' name. “Di Angelo, Nico!”

Nico made his way to the stool, trying not to act as awkward as he felt. The hat made contact with his head, and spoke in his mind. “Let’s see, you’re quite a tough one. Brave, but also cunning and strong. Misunderstood, and feared by many, yes?”

Nico didn’t like this hat invading his brain, even if it was, well, a hat.

_Just stay away from my memories._

“Memories? I’ll need to look there for a challenge such as you, it won’t take a moment.”

 

 

> “Bianca gave herself up to save the rest of us.”

 

> “Why didn’t you answer me sooner? I’ve been trying for months!”
> 
> “I was hoping you would give up.”

 

> "Percy, I told you I was sorry. Please... let me come with you. I want to fight."
> 
> "You'll be more help down here."
> 
> "You mean you don't trust me anymore."

 

 

> “If we free Thanatos, I may never see you again. Thanatos will send me back to the Underworld…”
> 
> “I wanted to give you a chance at Elysium. That was the best I could do for you. But now I wish there was another way. I don’t want to lose my sister.”

 

 

> “They pulled me into the pit, Percy. The things I saw down there…”

 

> “I – I wasn’t in love with Annabeth.”
> 
> ‘You were jealous of her. That’s why you didn’t want to be around her. Especially why you didn’t want to be around… him. It makes total sense.”
> 
> “I hated myself. I hated Percy Jackson. I had a crush on Percy. That’s the truth. That’s the big secret.”

 

> “You aren’t worthy of this.”
> 
> “Stop!”
> 
> “You took an oath to the legion. You broke its rules. You inflicted pain. You killed your own centurion.”
> 
> “I – I didn’t! I – ”
> 
> “You should’ve died for your crimes. That was the punishment. Instead you got exile. You should have stayed away. Your father Orcus may not approve of broken oaths. But my father Hades really doesn’t approve of those who escape punishment.”
> 
> “Please!”
> 
> “You’re already dead. You’re a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won’t be sharing any secrets.”
> 
> “No! No, I am Bryce Lawrence! I’m alive!”
> 
> “Who are you? Begone!”

 

The hat let loose a satanic scream, audible to everyone watching. Nico winced at the noise, fighting down an onslaught of tears. His head and heart both pounded with the weight of what he’d seen, he felt the need for pain again.

_Hurry up, you stupid hat! Let me go!_

“I see it clearly now. Better be SLYTHERIN!”

The hat said the last word out loud, finally releasing Nico from its grasp. He sprinted from the Great Hall, and into the corridor where his stuff sat. The sound of footsteps followed his escape; Nico turned to find Annabeth running towards him.

Despite Nico's silent pleas, the daughter of Athena didn't turn around and leave. “Percy’s stuck in the hall. What happened? Why’d the hat scream like that? Are you ok?”

“Go away, Annabeth. I just need to be alone right now, ok?”

“What happened?”

“Go away!” Nico's eyes flashed with animalistic rage. “You’re pretty fucking smart, you know I’m not going to talk to you! So why fucking bother?!”

Annabeth regarded him with her stormy grey eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t put up walls, Nico. I’m your friend.”

“Go AWAY!” He scoured for his bag, the need to cut overwhelming. Annabeth finally got the message - Nico sensed that she was out of sight. He'd have to do damage control later, but that was hardly a priority now.

His duffel was propped up against a wall, shut tight. Fingers fumbling with the zipper, Nico threw it open, groped for the towel, and yanked it out. He bolted down the hallway, away from the noise of the Great Hall, racing until he located an empty classroom. He grabbed at the knob, and, finding it unlocked, dashed inside. Away from the sight of any passersby, Nico began his robotic ritual.

The second the cold blade touched his skin, the incapacitating trauma faded into a dull, manageable throb. He let himself bleed for a little while, watching through his blissful haze as the towel caught droplets of blood. After patching himself up with the ambrosia, Nico let out a little sigh; all the horrifying memories were gone. He could face the world again.

Nico entered the Great Hall, after replacing his towel in his duffel. Whispering voices greeted his arrival, no doubt speculating what had just happened.

_Center of attention on the first day. Great._

Nico sat at the end of the Slytherin table, just in time to see Percy sorted into Gryffindor. Annabeth stood by the Ravenclaw table, circled by a few other students. She was addressing Luna with conflicted eyes, scanning the Great Hall every few seconds, like she was looking for Nico. It didn’t look like she’d found him.

A tap on Nico's shoulder broke him from his thoughts. He turned to see Percy.

“You doing ok, cuz?” Percy had never called Nico ‘cuz’ before... he must be doing so to keep up with appearances. Still, the nickname irked him.

“Like I told your girlfriend, none of your business.” He wasn’t as on edge post-cutting, but he still didn’t want anyone worrying about him. He wasn’t some weak little kid anymore. He was Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, the Ghost King! He could take care of himself; he always had.

“And I say you’re my cousin, which makes it my business. Now are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?”

Nico was smart enough to know that Percy meant it when he said he would get the story out of Nico one way or another. He was stubborn, persistent, and stupid enough to forget about giving up. The easiest thing to do would be just to tell Percy something, just to shut him up. But, some of the surrounding Slytherins were listening, so Nico couldn’t just jump into a sob story about Tartarus, even if he wanted to.

“The hat saw my memories,” Nico whispered. Percy gave him a silent look of compassion, which infuriated Nico. He didn't need - or want - pity. But, Percy understood, so he wouldn’t pry further.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Percy brushed his fingers on Nico’s arm, right on his healing cut, which made Nico jump. “Sorry. Forgot you don't like people touching you.”

Nico felt too anxious about Percy discovering his secret to remember to give a proper reaction. “N – no problem,” Nico stammered instead, earning an odd look from Percy as he left.

Nico relished in the fact that no one else cared to talk to him. He took his iPod out of his pocket and cranked up the music, listening to a playlist Will had made him ages ago. He ate dinner in silence, pretending not to feel Harry Potter’s gaze on his back. There was no doubt in Nico's mind Harry would try and uncover the secret behind his most recent outburst. But, right now, he couldn't care less.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

Once the sorting ended, Harry had only one thought on his mind. “Why do you reckon the hat screamed like that when that di Angelo kid put it on?” The question got him strange looks from both Ron and Hermione.

“Why does it matter?” Hermione asked. “The hat’s acted weird before, di Angelo must've had some bad memory or something.”

“Come on,” Harry persisted. “Aren’t you a little curious, Hermione? Isn’t it a little odd?”

“I suppose.” Hermione glanced thoughtfully at Percy Jackson. “Hey, Percy, why do you think the hat screamed when your cousin put it on?”

Jackson looked up from his mashed potatoes. “Just a memory Nico had. Nothing important.”

“It seemed important to the hat,” Harry argued.

“It’s a hat. I’m sure lots of things are important to it.” Ron laughed, but Harry did not. Jackson looked around at the Great Hall a little more, his eyes landing on Nearly Headless Nick. “Hey, why are there so many ghosts here?”

Hermione's eyebrows knit together. “You don’t have ghosts in America?”

Jackson shook his head. “We’ve got Lares, but that’s about it. I’m surprised Nico hasn’t said anything about them.”

That got Harry’s attention. “Why would di Angelo care about the ghosts? And what are Lares?”

Jackson shifted in his seat. “Lares, um, aren’t important. Nico’s just into that kind of thing.”

“Death?”

“No, not death, just ghosts and Lares and things like that. Cause of his dad.”

“His dad?”

“Yeah, my uncle. He – ”

Dumbledore stood, and the hall quieted; Harry wished with all his might Dumbledore hadn’t chosen that time to speak. Something about Nico di Angelo and those other Americans didn't add up, between their strange behavior, possible stalking, and open threats. But, he’d discovered di Angelo had an obsession with death, plus he just happened to be a Slytherin? A Slytherin with such a dark memory it made the Sorting Hat scream in terror? He seemed the perfect candidate for a Death Eater in disguise to Harry, or the son of a Death Eater, anyway.

During announcements, that Umbridge woman from Harry's trial, now the DADA teacher, decided she wanted to make a speech as well. Harry glanced at di Angelo as she droned on and on; he was listening to his black iPod, not even trying to pretend he was paying attention. A friend of his had enchanted the electronic so it worked in Hogwarts... something else that made no sense. Not even Hermione could do that.

After even more talking, Dumbledore dismissed the school. Hermione motioned for Jackson to follow her to the common room, but he refused. “Got a talk with Dumbledore,” he explained.

“Why?” Harry asked.

Jackson shrugged. “Introduce me to the school, I guess. I’ll see you guys in the dorms.”

Harry felt the urge to follow Percy, but decided that Dumbledore wouldn’t be happy if he did that. Even with all the weird stuff going on, Harry trusted Dumbledore’s judgement, or, at least, he didn’t want to anger the Headmaster. So, he made his way to the Gryffindor common room alongside his housemates, while Hermione and Ron showed the first years where to go.

** ____________________PERCY____________________ **

****

Percy joined Annabeth and Nico outside the Great Hall as soon as the meal ended. He felt both confused and concerned about Harry’s abnormal interested in Nico. “Nico, what did you do to Harry Potter to get him so interested in you?"

Nico's jaw clenched. “He hasn't quit asking about me yet? Figures.”

“Weren’t you supposed to befriend him?” Annabeth questioned. She did not sound happy.

“I was going to, until I found out he was a paranoid, stubborn idiot.”

They arrived at the gargoyle, marking the Headmaster’s Office. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Harry had a crush on from the train, had given Annabeth directions. “Do we just knock?” Percy asked.

“Cho said there would be a password,” Annabeth replied.

“Well, that’s just great,” Nico grumbled.

It turned out not to be an issue, because, just then, Dumbledore turned the corner. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I was having a rather interesting conversation with Professor Flitwick and forgot the time. Fizzing Whizbee.”

The gargoyle started to move, revealing a staircase. Together, they stepped into a big, circular office with portraits on the walls. And the portraits were… moving?

Dumbledore sat down at his desk. With a wave of his wand, three chairs appeared, allowing Percy and his friends to sit as well.

“Dude, you can make furniture appear out of thin air? That's awesome!" Both Annabeth and Nico rolled their eyes at Percy's reaction, like he was acting idiotic or something.

Dumbledore, however, remained cheerful. “I may not be a demigod, but we wizards - ah, followers of Hecate, as you say - have a few skills. Now, your activities director, Chiron, informed me of your quest. You are to locate Lord Voldemort's horcruxes and bring his soul to - what was that word again?”

“Hades," Nico answered. "Or the Underworld. Take your pick.”

“Indeed. And you are leading this quest, Mr. di Angelo?”

“Yeah. I can sense the horcruxes, because of my father. They shouldn’t be too hard to find, but, if you know anything, that would be helpful.”

“One horcrux, a diary, is already destroyed. It was stabbed with a Basilisk fang a number of years ago.”

“Do you still have this Basilisk fang?”

“We had to dispose of it that same year, unfortunately. Basilisk venom is lethal, more so than most magical substances. The Ministry controls every drop of it in Britain. Holding onto the fang after the creature was destroyed would’ve been unlawful on my part.”

“Fine. Do you know where any of the other horcruxes might be?”

Dumbledore leaned back with a shake his head. “I have told you all I know.” Percy didn't think the man was lying, but there was no doubt in Percy's mind that he knew more than he let on.

Nico picked up on that too. He crossed his arms, and started to say “Professor – ”

“I will let you know if I find any leads, Mr. di Angelo. Now to other matters, namely, your classes.”

"Sir!" Annabeth protested. "We can't do magic the same way you can. The only thing classes would do is blow our cover!"

“Quite the opposite, Miss Chase. I have informed the teachers you are not able to perform spells, they understand this. However, all students must attend classes at Hogwarts. Otherwise, what point would an exchange program have?”

They spent the rest of their time picking classes, and getting supplies from Dumbledore. Nico ended up in the same classes as Harry Potter, so he could get close to the Gryffindor. Even if they didn't get along, Nico wouldn't dare disobey a direct order from Hades. Percy chose the same classes as Annabeth, so they'd be together more often as well. Finally, they found themselves parting for the night, Percy now alone to move into his dorm.

_First day of classes tomorrow. Let’s not get kicked out of this school, Jackson._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](http://solangelo-is-my-life.tumblr.com)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), [Fairn](http://crystallineabyss.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	4. You'd Think A Sword To The Chest Would Shut A Person Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you to Fairn and Sarah for making the readable.
> 
> NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  
> I rewrote CH 1 - 3 after a long hiatus after CH 7. I have not rewritten 4 - 7 (yet) so you'll see a drop off in the usual style and quality. Please be kind! I'm a scriptwriter, not a prose writer, so this fic was my literal first go at prose writing, and I was not that good at it! It picks up again in CH 8 and continues in quality for the rest of the fic. I'm sorry if it's hard to get through, but the other side it worth it!

**____________________NICO____________________**

Nico was alone in a forest he didn’t recognize. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard the galloping of a horse, an almost hypnotising clomp, clomp, clomp. He ran towards the sound, when suddenly he heard another sound: frantic whinnying erupted around him, followed by a loud crash. Turning his head to follow the sound, Nico froze. A stark white unicorn laid on the ground a ways ahead, clearly injured. He ran to it to try and help, but a dark figure got there before him. As Nico watched in horror, the figure leaned down and drank from the unicorn, silver blood pouring out of a large wound on its side. Nico wanted to scream in protest, as unicorn blood cursed those who drank it, but he couldn't speak. Let alone move.

The scene changed. Nico's surroundings were familiar this time. It was a dorm in Westover Hall; the dorm he spent a good portion of the better years of his life. He was sitting on his old bed, but on the opposite bed wasn’t his old roommate Matt, but a young looking boy with brown hair and eyes. He was a little pale like Nico, and long and lanky like he’d just had a growth spurt.

“I can help you,” the boy said. “I can make you the person you always wanted.”

Nico looked around the room, then back at the boy. It was amazing, everything looked exactly the same. “I miss this place,” Nico commented.

“I can help you,” the boy repeated, unfazed despite the fact that Nico had ignored him.  He walked over to the son of Hades, looking him straight in the eye. “Trust me.”

“I don’t know you,” Nico replied. “How can I trust you?”

“Because I can help you,” the boy repeated. “Don’t you want to be here again? To feel the way you did when your sister was still alive?”

“Bianca?” Nico asked, surprised. “How do you know about her?”

“Because I am you, stupid. It's your dream, your head. Of course I know about your sister, what do you think of me?” Nico was so caught off guard that he didn’t respond. The boy didn’t seem to care, instead he continued speaking. “I can make you the most powerful demigod ever. With my help, you’ll finish your quest, make your father proud, and achieve everything you ever wanted. All you need to do is trust me.” The boy walked over to Nico and sat beside him. “Don’t you want my help?”

Nico was tempted. He didn’t know why, but a part of him trusted this stranger, who’d given him all this. He wanted so badly to go into the mess hall and see the old mortal friends he’d left behind… Jake, Tristan and Matt… especially Matt. He wanted  to run out of the room, and up the stairs to where he knew Bianca’s dorm room was; burst in, apologize for not protecting her, and never leave her side again.

Nico shook his head, forcing himself to focus. “This is a dream, an image in my head. And so are you.”

“I’m your friend,” the boy insisted. “I want to make you strong. I want you to kill Tom Riddle and keep my parents from dying.”

“Your parents?”

“Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. They’re going to be killed by Voldemort in two years, and I’ll be all alone. I want you to help me save them.” he explained.

“Then why not just ask me?” Nico asked. “Why do all this? Create Westover Hall?”

“Because I wanted you to remember what it’s like to be a kid. Your life here, that’s me right now. And if you don’t let me help you, I’ll become an orphan just like you did.” That hit a chord with Nico. Sure, he had his father, but Hades didn’t really act like a dad. Bianca was his family, and she was dead. He had Hazel, but Hazel hadn’t raised him. Yeah, he loved her, but she could never replace Bianca.

“I have to think about it,” Nico said, after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m Nico, by the way, but you probably already know that.”

“Teddy,” the boy replied. “Teddy Edward, but you can just call me Teddy. Please, help me.”

With that, Nico woke up. It was near morning, and Nico’s iPod, which was now set to English time, said it was about six thirty,  Class started at eight, but for Nico it still felt like the middle of the night. With the time difference, it was probably about one o’clock in the morning on the East Coast.

Nico forced himself to wake up fully, and got dressed into his wizarding robes. He still didn’t like the feel of the new clothes much, he didn’t feel comfortable in anything other than his black jeans, t-shirt, and aviator jacket. At least the cloak covered his arms, and he was still able to wear his skull ring and sword belt.

Nico went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, when he looked around he only saw people he didn’t know, so he sat alone, listening to his iPod and thinking about his dream. The unicorn part made no sense to Nico, and he didn’t really care about it that much. It was Teddy that concerned Nico.

He couldn’t let any kid suffer like he had, and this one was around the same age he was when Bianca died. But at the same time, Nico thought about Rachel’s prophecy line: “The friend is an enemy.” That could apply to Teddy, he even said that he was a friend. _But then again,_ Nico thought, _that could also apply to Harry. He was supposed to be a friend, and he turned out to be an enemy._

 _Screw it,_ Nico thought. _I’m not going to make all my judgements based on guesses from an oracle._ _Avoiding the Fates never works, anyway._ He snapped out of his reverie when he saw Annabeth walk into the Great Hall, waving her over. She sat down at the Slytherin table, even though she wasn’t really supposed to.

“I didn’t expect you to be up this early,” Annabeth commented, stealing a piece of waffle off his plate.

“Dream I had,” Nico replied. Annabeth looked at him like she expected him to continue, but Nico didn’t feel like talking about Teddy, or the unicorn and the figure. “Do you see a fire anywhere? We need to sacrifice some of this food to the gods. We couldn’t last night, and that might make them angry.”

“I thought about that,” Annabeth countered. _Of course you have._ “We only have to sacrifice food to the gods if we’re able to, and since we have to stay undercover, that means we can’t. So, it’s not a problem.” She reached for another piece of waffle, but Nico slapped her hand away.

“You want food? Go over the Ravenclaw table and take some.”

Annabeth gave him an annoyed look, but went to grab a piece of toast from Ravenclaw before coming back. “We’ve got some time before classes, let’s see if we can find any horcruxes in the castle.” So, Nico got up, and they left the Great Hall. They walked around the castle a little, mostly getting lost between its thousand staircases, fake doors, and fake walls, until Nico felt something off.

They were walking down a hallway in some corner of the castle, when Nico felt a flash of anger. _No,_ Nico thought, not the right word. _Unnaturalness, that’s the right word._

“Annabeth, stop!” Nico called out, and turned to face the wall. “Is this a fake door or something?”

“You found a horcrux?” Annabeth asked incredulously. “So soon?”

“I think so,” Nico replied uncertainly. “Help me look for a door handle.”

They did everything they could, but the wall wouldn’t budge. Either it was a door really set on being a wall, or it was just a wall. Nico didn’t understand, could Riddle have put a horcrux inside a wall? Nico couldn’t exactly take a sledgehammer to Hogwarts.

“Maybe it’s on the other side?” Annabeth guessed, and Nico ran around the halls until he found the adjacent hallway. But the feeling of unnaturalness was gone.

He jogged back to Annabeth. “No, it has to be here.”

But he was interrupted as students began to file into the hallway for their classes, forcing the two to abandon their search. Annabeth ran off to Ancient Runes, and Nico to Potions with (ugh) Harry Potter. He found his way and sat down at the back of the class moments before Professor Snape came in and told the class to settle down, which was weird because no one was talking.

“Before we begin today’s lesson,” Snape began, and Nico got the horrible feeling this was going to turn into a speech, “I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your O.W.L., or suffer my… displeasure.” _An owl? Why does everything in this school have weird animal names?_ Nico thought to himself. _Hogwarts, owl, this is starting to get creepy._

Snape went on and on about that owl test that Nico knew he wouldn't have to take, so he didn’t listen. Instead, he focused on his dream again, going over and over what Teddy said in his head. He still couldn’t decide whether to trust the guy or not. Finally, Snape stopped talking and and waved his wand to the blackboard, where writing appeared. That would be a problem. While Nico didn’t need magical powers to add ingredients to a caldron (he was using one Dumbledore had given him last night) he was dyslexic. He couldn’t read English very well. And he wasn’t going to be that student that always went up to the teacher for help. Unfortunately, he was also sitting next to Draco Malfoy.

“What are we supposed to do first?” he asked Malfoy quietly, who sneered at him.

“Can’t you read, di Angelo?” he asked mockingly.

“Not well,” Nico said plainly, and everyone who was within earshot turned and stared at him, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“You can’t read?” Hermione exclaimed, like it was the worst thing in the world.

“Oh, this is rich!” Malfoy laughed, causing Nico to roll his eyes.

“I’ve got dyslexia. Look it up. Now tell me what’s on the blackboard or I’m going to mess up my potion,” Nico said to Malfoy, his voice dripping with attitude. Nico was good at giving people attitude.

“I’ll help you!” Hermione offered, like Nico was some kind of lost puppy. She waved Malfoy away, who got up and sat next his laestrygonian friends without complaining. “The first step says to add powdered moonstone until the potion becomes green. I took some from the supply cupboard, here.” She thrust the powder in Nico’s hand, and he did as she said. They worked well together, and soon a silver mist was rising over the top of both of their potions, just as Snape said it should. Harry’s didn’t, and Snape ended up vanishing his potion, which Nico thoroughly enjoyed.

 _How does it feel to be unfairly accused, Potter?_ Nico silently asked Harry. _Now I know you would never do that, especially calling a new student a Thanatos eater._ After Hermione wrote his name on his potion for him, Nico carried it to the front of the class with the others, smirking at Harry when he passed him. Out of the corner of his eye, Nico could see Harry going up to Hermione, looking incredibly angry. _This is going to be a good day,_ Nico thought as he headed off to lunch.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

“Hermione, why would you help that di Angelo kid?!” Harry asked angrily. “You know what he is!”

“What?” Hermione shot back. “Our friend? Who cares if he’s a Slytherin, he’s a nice person who needed help! Imagine if you’d been him and Malfoy’d been acting like that! What did you want me to do, leave Nico out to rot?”

“Yes!” Harry said. _Isn’t that obvious?_

“Imagine if you couldn’t read, Hermione!” Ron joked, obviously trying to calm them down before things got worse. “All those books you weigh yourself down with…”

“Exactly!” Hermione exclaimed, earning a stunned look from Ron, he hadn’t wanted to add to the argument.

“All I’m saying is if that he’s buddy-buddy with Malfoy, I don’t want that di Angelo kid anywhere near me,” Harry argued.

“He’s not ‘that di Angelo kid,’ he’s Nico. And he’s obviously not buddy-buddy with Malfoy, I don’t know if you noticed but he seems smart enough to stay away from him.”

“Why are you defending him so much? Do you fancy the guy or something?” Harry accused, causing Hermione to narrow her eyes, getting dangerously angry.

“I’m defending him because he didn’t _do_ anything other than not be able to read, listen to an iPod, and make friendly conversation with us on the train. What do _you_ have against him? In one second you just decided that you hated him, Harry! What did he ever do?” Hermione’s voice was so calm it was scary. Harry knew he had to tell the truth.

He looked around. The corridor outside Potions was empty, everyone, including Snape, had gone to the Great Hall for lunch. “He was eavesdropping on our conversation with Mad-Eye,” Harry said quietly.

“So?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms. “Maybe he was curious. He’s American. He doesn’t know about You-Know-Who or anything.”

“Let me finish, Hermione,” Harry snapped. “I asked him about it, and he pulled a knife on me.”

Ron and Hermione’s eyes widened. “He did what?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, then he said something like, ‘You stay away from me and my friends, you got me?’ Like he had something to hide.” For once, Hermione was speechless.

“Do you think that di Angelo kid could be a Death Eater?” Ron asked.

“The son of one, maybe. I told him as much on the train after he pulled the knife,” Harry replied. “I just want to figure out what his secret is. If he hurts anyone in Hogwarts…” There was a long pause, no one knew exactly what to say.

“You know,” Hermione said, breaking the silence, “He had to go through Dumbledore to get here and-”

“Don’t tell me you’re still defending him!” Ron protested.

“I’m _not_ , I’m just saying he’d have to be an awful good wizard to pull the wool over Dumbledore’s eyes,” Hermione countered, and Harry had to agree with her.

“Then that means he’s powerful, which makes him dangerous. He still has that black knife, I saw the hilt of it sticking out of his robe pocket during class,” Harry said.

“Why would he carry that thing into Potions?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know, but  I’m going to find out,” Harry vowed. “Hermione, are you in or not?” Hermione looked pale and scared, but she nodded. “Then let’s go to lunch, that’s where di Angelo was heading.”

The three headed down to the Great Hall where they saw Jackson, Chase, and di Angelo whispering in the corner of the hall. Judging by their faces, it looked important. Harry walked in their general direction with Ron and Hermione, the three faking a conversation about nothing to keep the Americans from being suspicious.

“ – behind a wall. Annabeth and I walked around the entire hallway, but there was nothing,” di Angelo was saying.

“Are you sure there was something, Nico? Couldn’t you, I dunno, have  just felt the aftereffects of a bad dream or something?” Percy asked, confusing Harry. What did he mean?

“You know who his dad is, Percy. He’d be able to sense them,” Annabeth pointed out. Sense what? Harry wondered. And there’s di Angelo’s dad again. _Why does he keep coming up in conversation?_

The three were about to pass by the Americans, when Harry paused, wanting to listen in a bit more. All the eavesdropping had done was raise more questions. But when Hermione whispered in his ear, “Keep moving,” Harry continued walking. They sat down at the Gryffindor table and began to talk about what they'd just heard

“There’s di Angelo's dad again,” Hermione pointed out. “Remember, Jackson mentioned him at the feast.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be obsessed with ghosts and Larsons or something?” Ron asked.

“Lares, Ron, ” Hermione corrected. “I don’t know what those are, I’ll have to look them up in the library when I get the chance.”

“What do you reckon di Angelo would be able to sense?” Ron asked again.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “But I plan on finding out.”

Jackson, looking preoccupied, walked over the the Gryffindor table. “Can I sit with you guys?”

Harry was going to say no, but Hermione jumped in before he could. “Of course, Percy! Here, you can sit next to me.” She moved towards Ron to make a spot, and Percy plopped down. “What were you talking about with your cousin?” She asked innocently.

“Just talking about the first day,” Percy said offhandedly. It turned out Percy was a good liar, which which wasn't going to be good. “I heard he had some trouble in Potions. Thanks for the help, Hermione. Nico’s grateful.”

“I’m sure,” Harry said under his breath, but Percy didn’t hear him because he was too distracted by some mashed potatoes on the table that he was reaching for.

“You were telling us something last night,” Hermione continued. “Something about your uncle?”

Percy grew pale. “Oh, yeah, I was–”

But lunch ended right then, and Harry never got to hear what Jackson was going to say. Harry couldn’t believe his bad luck; during the rest of his classes all he could think about was Lares and speculate about what Jackson was going to say. He couldn’t wait to be out of class and start working with his friends on finding out what Lares were.

Finally, their last class ended and Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves in the library, trying to find out anything about Lares or any other hint any of the Americans might’ve mentioned. “This is useless!” Harry said in frustration, slamming another book shut. Nothing on Lares anywhere.

“It’s not a magical creature, or a person from history, or the name of an important ghost…” Hermione muttered, obviously as frustrated as Harry was. The sun was down and the library was dark, soon Madam Pince would close the library and they’d be done anyway. “Take as many books as you can carry,” Hermione ordered as she closed the book she had her nose in. “We’ll look at them in the common room.”

But Harry had the feeling that they could look at history books for months and never find the word Lares anywhere in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, good or otherwise. I live for feedback, comments, and criticism.


	5. Nico Finds Friends His Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! As usual, thanks to Fairn and Sarah for making this readable.
> 
> NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  
> I rewrote CH 1 - 3 after a long hiatus after CH 7. I have not rewritten 4 - 7 (yet) so you'll see a drop off in the usual style and quality. Please be kind! I'm a scriptwriter, not a prose writer, so this fic was my literal first go at prose writing, and I was not that good at it! It picks up again in CH 8 and continues in quality for the rest of the fic. I'm sorry if it's hard to get through, but the other side it worth it!

**____________________NICO____________________**

“Help me!” Teddy Lupin begged, tears streaming down his face. “There isn’t much time! I don’t want to be an orphan! Please! Help me! Let me make you strong!”

Nico woke with a gasp, the onslaught of guilt coming in waves. How could he not trust a boy so much like him? So weak and vulnerable, when all he wanted to do was help? It was still night, but Nico couldn’t stand still. On a table sat a jug of water, Nico got up and grabbed a drink, thinking about what to do. _What would Percy do?_ Nico asked himself. _Well, he’d tell me and Annabeth, and we’d come up with a solution to solve this._ But Nico couldn’t tell anyone. He just wasn’t that kind of person. No, he’d deal with Teddy Lupin on his own.

Nico went to the bathroom. It was empty now that everyone was still asleep, so he began to add more marks to his scarred wrist. It made him feel better, more relaxed and calm. Even the ambrosia felt good on his skin, like the way hugs from Bianca used to feel. Thinking about Bianca made Nico think about Westover Hall, which brought him back to his dream. _Gods,_ Nico thought bitterly as he went back to his bed.

He couldn’t sleep. It was around midnight, but it felt like it was seven as he still hadn't gotten used to the time difference.. He thought about his memories of Bianca, of Westover Hall and of Teddy Lupin, and tried to ignore the guilt that came from him cutting himself. He thought about how Bianca would react if she knew. She’d probably think he was a monster. Or unnatural, like one of Riddle’s horcruxes, which were little monsters anyway.

“Stop it,” Nico whispered to himself, and played Will’s playlist at full volume.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about everything. When he finally fell asleep, his dreams  were full of his worst nightmares: Bianca’s death, Percy and Annabeth finding out about his cutting, and Teddy Lupin dying, screaming it was his fault. To top it all off, his dreams were based around weird images spawned from different Panic! At the Disco songs.

Nico woke up the next morning in a cold sweat. To make his morning even worse, Draco Malfoy was already awake and had noticed the tear tracks on Nico’s face. Of course Malfoy could’ve not said anything, but then he wouldn’t be the Draco Nico knew and hated.

“Oooh, I’m Nico di Angelo, and I cry in my sleep with mudblood devices in my ears. I’m _so_ edgy,” Malfoy mocked.

“Go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Nico retorted, and to his surprise Malfoy looked confused. That is, until another Slytherin whispered in his ear what ‘fuck’ meant. Then Malfoy’s eyes darkened.

“You want to use muggle insults around me? Maybe you’re not worthy enough to be a Slytherin. Go run to your Gryffindor cousin and his sorry excuse of a girlfriend.”

Nico looked at him hard, staring him down with a stare that was worthy of the term ‘death stare.’. “I don’t give a damn what you say about me, but when you insult Percy and Annabeth…” he growled, and Malfoy looked terrified. “You want to make me an enemy? Do it at your own risk. Now get out of my bed area.” If anyone could make ‘bed area’ sound badass, it was Nico di Angelo.

The morning passed without any more incidents, Nico mostly just sat in the back of the class, shooting a death glare at anyone who questioned him sitting out of the lessons. He was able to spend that time thinking about the horcrux he’d sensed before with Annabeth, and how to find it. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to get something out of a wall without knocking the wall down, and that would be out of the question for a number of reasons; the most obvious that Dumbledore wouldn’t approve of his school being destroyed. Besides, Nico had the strangest feeling that even if he reduced the school to rubble, he wouldn’t find the horcrux in the remains.

Finally, he was at the last class before lunch arrived, and unfortunately it was Care of Magical Creatures, with Harry and the other two. Nico already had to deal with Malfoy and his laestrygonians trying to figure out a way to get Nico back for threatening them, now he would have to deal with Harry calling him a Thanatos eater to Ron, and Hermione looking at him like a gods damn lost puppy.

It turned out, Nico had nothing to worry about when it came to Hermione. The moment he got within eyesight of the Gryffindors, Hermione gave him such a cold, disgusted look that it made Nico feel unclean. _What was that about?_ Nico thought. _One second she’s looking at me like some poor unfortunate kid, and the next second she’s shooting me dirty looks?_

Malfoy seemed to get over the little fight (Nico guessed it was a fight, though it was more of a one-sided threat) and had obviously said something funny, probably at Harry’s expense since they kept looking in his direction. Nico was torn. He’d love to hear a joke at his enemy’s expense, but when it came from a rat like Malfoy… _Gods, when did people get so complicated?_ Nico asked himself. I _t isn’t this difficult at camp. Demigods are good. Some of them are rude, but good. Monsters, Titans, and giants are bad. But here, everyone seems to have some kind of agenda._ It made Nico’s brain hurt.

“Everyone here?” barked the Professor, the one Dumbledore had called Professor Grubbly-Plank (Gods, what was with the names here? Riddle? Malfoy? Hermione? Grubbly-Plank? It sounded like the kind of names a three-year-old would write). “Let’s crack on then- who can tell me what these things are called?” Professor Grubbly-Plank asked, referring to a pile of twigs in front of her.

 _Um… does she think we’re ten?_ Nico thought, and he could see that a lot of people in the class were having the same reaction.

Hermione shot her hand in the air, earning her the privilege of being mocked by Malfoy, sticking out his teeth like had an overbite and jumping up and down. Nico felt angry, until he remembered how Hermione had looked at him before. A girl near Malfoy who Nico forgot the name of started laughing, but started to scream when the twigs became pixie-like things made of wood, with only two fingers and weird flat faces that looked like tree bark.

“Oooooh,” said an Indian Gryffindor girl and her friend, which made Nico cringe. Gods, he hated squealing girls. The noises they made drove Nico mad.

“Kindly keep your voice down, girls!” Professor Grubbly-Plank said sharply, she scattered something that looked a little like brown rice to the twig things, who ate them so quickly you’d think they were hellhounds. “So- anyone know the names of these? Miss Granger?”

“Bowtruckles,” Hermione said confidently. “They’re tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees.”

 _There’s specific trees for wands?_ Nico wondered. _What does it matter what kind of wood a wand was made out of?_ Children of Hecate didn’t even use wands, though Nico knew that these followers of Hecate were a lot weaker than demigods.

“Five points to Gryffindor,” Professor Grubbly-Plank said. “Yes, these are bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?”

“Wood lice,” Hermione explained, which explained why those things Professor Grubbly-Plank had given to the bowtruckles were moving. “But fairy eggs if they can get them.”

Nico zoned out after that, because Professor Grubbly-Plank started to go on about bowtruckles and wood lice and trees. It was something Nico figured a satyr would find interesting. But not him. He thought about Will. They’d chatted the night before and, as Nico thought about him, skeletal butterflies were flapping around in his stomach, like they always did when Will was around. The Iris message had been about nothing important, just talking and laughing and thinking about what they’d do when they got to see each other again in person. Basically, it was pure bliss. Nico didn’t want to admit it, but he liked Will a lot more than he was letting on.

Finally, Professor Grubbly-Plank handed out the bowtruckles and everyone got into groups of 3. Nico ended up with two of the less annoying Slytherins: Blaise Zabini and Hestia Carrow. Nico tried to talk to Hestia, after all with a name like that there was a small chance she could be a half-blood or somehow connected to the Olympians, but she didn’t want to talk.

Later in the class, Nico overheard an argument between Malfoy and Harry about some guy named Hagrid, the fighting only stopping when Harry got injured by one of the bowtruckles. After laughing with the other Slytherins about Harry’s injury, he asked them, “Who’s Hagrid?”

“This half-giant who used to teach the class,” Hestia answered quietly, which was weird since she hadn’t wanted to talk before. “He had us around monsters. Potter and the other Gryffindors are strangely fond of him, for some odd reason.”

“Yeah,” Blaise put in. “Do you remember last year, when we had to take care of those Blast-Ended Skrewts as a class project? I nearly got my ear blown off!”

“Then why does Dumbledore still keep him around?” Nico asked. “Why doesn’t he fire him?”

“You got me,” Blaise said. “Malfoy says it’s because Dumbledore’s an old fool - ”

“Well don’t believe everything you hear,” Nico interrupted. “Dumbledore seems plenty smart to me.”

“I don’t buy into that,” Hestia said. “Malfoy’s the fool, not Dumbledore. I don’t agree with everything Dumbledore says, but that doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. Couldn’t have gotten where he is if he was.”

Class ended. They headed off to Charms with the Hufflepuffs, Nico still talking to Hestia and Blaise. He ended up hanging out with the two Slytherins the rest of the day. Of course Malfoy had to make a comment in their last class, Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Di Angelo’s found a new girlfriend!” Malfoy sneered. That girl, Pansy Parkinson, turned and laughed.

“Ooooh Carrow! I’d thought you’d do better than scum like that!” Pansy cried.

Umbridge looked up from her reading, gave a little cough. “Quiet please,” she said in her sickeningly sweet voice.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Nico replied, with a deadpan look, and a flat tone to his voice.

“Think you’re too good for a pure-blood?” Malfoy retorted.

“I think she’s too good to be conned by a guy like me,” Nico countered.

Hestia looked at him, confused. “Conned?” she asked.

“I’m gay,” Nico explained. “I didn’t think that was a trait girls looked for in guys.”

No one seemed to think this new information was a big deal except for Malfoy, who looked a little shocked. “You don’t act gay,” he commented.

Nico rolled his eyes. “Would you like me to wear a sign? Hello, I’m Nico di Angelo; Slytherin; the gay one.” Blaise and Hestia laughed, so no one heard Umbridge approach.

“Mr. di Angelo, I thought I told you to be quiet,” Umbridge said sweetly. “Next time, you’ll get detention.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nico forced himself to say as Malfoy, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle snickered.

** ____________________PERCY____________________ **

****

The week passed quickly. Between trying to find the horcrux in the wall and the amount of homework Percy had to do, he was swamped. He was up late one night in the Gryffindor common room, trying to figure out if his Divination textbook said “foretold” or “fortune” when Harry and Ron came through the Fat Lady.

“Enough about that old hag, can we get back to Quidditch?” Harry was saying. Percy looked up from his work. Harry seemed a bit worried, trying to cover his hand. There was something on the back of it. Some kind of cut, but Percy couldn’t see it.

“Hey guys,” Percy called. He knew that he should hate Harry because of his rivalry with Nico, but Percy didn’t find anything wrong with him or any of his friends. He did know that Nico rubbed people the wrong way a lot, so he figured the same thing had happened here.

“Hi Percy,” Ron replied, and if Percy didn’t know any better he’d think that was fear in Ron’s eyes. “What’s up?”

“Just finishing Divination homework.” Percy pointed to the textbook. “What’s Quidditch?”

“Don’t you have Quidditch in America?” Harry asked suspiciously, which surprised Percy. What reason did Harry have to be hostile, or Ron to be scared?

“Nah, it’s just football and basketball and things like that,” Percy said.

“Football? A friend of ours, Dean Thomas, is obsessed with this football team, West Ham I think,” Ron babbled, still looking nervous.

“That’s soccer football.” Percy laughed. “I meant American football. Like the Giants and Jets and stuff.”

“The the who's and what's?” Ron asked.

“Nevermind,” Percy brushed off, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. “What’s Quidditch?” Ron’s face turned from fear to excitement, he went on and on about the rules and the positions and the gameplay, Harry was looking at Percy with daggers in his gaze. “That sounds awesome!” Percy exclaimed when Ron stopped for breath. “Are there any openings on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?”

“You want to be a part of the team?” Harry asked. “But you just found out about it a few minutes ago!”

“I’m a fast learner, besides I rode pegasi back in America. I’m good at flying.” Percy boasted. He knew he shouldn’t mention the pegasi, but there were so many weird animals here that he figured no one would bat an eye. Harry seemed a little stunned, but Ron didn’t seem surprised at all.

“Cool. I’m trying out for the only open spot, Keeper. We could practice together,” Ron offered. Percy assumed he forgot he was supposed to be scared of Percy, because just then Harry shot Ron a look Causing the red head to give a look like he seemed to remember something.

“Sure, man,” Percy replied. He may not’ve been Annabeth, but he could come up with a half-decent plan. He wanted to know why Harry and Ron were so afraid of him and hated Nico so much. Befriending them would be the easiest way to do that, plus Hades had said they needed Harry. If he could get these particular followers of Hecate to trust him…

That would be hard, though, because Ron looked like Percy’d just signed his death warrant.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

As Harry wrote “I must not tell lies” on the parchment with Umbridge’s ‘special’ quill, he was able to watch Percy and Ron’s practicing. It didn’t look like Ron was in any danger, but you could never know with death eaters. He could see the figures, though he couldn’t make out who was who. Both were pretty talented, though one (hopefully Ron) was clearly better than the other.

Finally, other people showed up and the tryouts began. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Percy hadn’t tried anything. There were four people Harry could guess were good, two of which had to be Percy and Ron. Percy hadn’t been lying when he said riding pegasi would help him on a broom, though Harry was still shocked at the discovery of the existence of pegasi.

At around midnight, Harry was finally allowed to leave detention, blood all over his hand and arm. He went to the bathroom to wash it off. The water stung the back of his hand, but it got the wound clean and inconspicuous. Ron had found out about Umbridge’s detentions, he didn’t want anyone else, especially Hermione, knowing what was going on.

Harry left the bathroom and was heading back to the Gryffindor common room when he heard someone whisper “Gods damn it!” Harry recognised the voice immediately: Nico di Angelo. _Why is he out of bed at midnight?_ Harry thought, and snuck up on di Angelo, keeping himself out of di Angelo’s eyesight but keeping di Angelo within his own. He was staring at this part of a wall, muttering to himself. Harry stepped out from his hiding place, just an inch, to hear what he was saying, when di Angelo turned and looked straight at him. “Why are you spying on me, Potter?”

“I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing out of bed, di Angelo?” Harry questioned him.

“We went over this on the train. You stay out of my way, you don’t get turned into a Harry-kebab.”

“I know what you said. But I’m not going to stop until I find out who you are,” Harry vowed. “Now answer my question: what are you doing here?”

Di Angelo held up a hand in the “stop” position, so it looked like he was directing traffic. At that moment, Harry’s own and di Angelo’s shadow came out from the wall and grabbed Harry. He struggled against the grasp, but the more Harry struggled the shadows the tighter they held. “This is - ” Harry struggled to say the words. “This is _dark magic_!”

“And?” di Angelo asked, a dangerous light in his eyes, the eyes of a madman. “I could have the shadows do anything I want. They could transport you all the way back to King’s Cross. They could kill you or your friends. Don’t tempt me.”

“You would kill…” Harry said, growing tired in his struggle against the shadows.

“Do I look like a stranger to death, Potter?” di Angelo asked. He walked up to Harry, one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Answer me! Do I?!”

Harry spat in his eye, so overcome with fury he couldn’t think about anything except how much he wanted to prove that di Angelo was a death eater. “Go to hell, di Angelo!” Harry shouted as loud as he could.

di Angelo smiled, like he knew something Harry didn’t. “Just stay out of my way. Release him!” The shadows melted back into the wall, and Harry fell down to the ground, he ended up laying on the floor, his legs bent at a weird angle under his stomach.

“Soon the whole school’s going to know who you are, you death eater!” Harry screamed, his blood boiling more than it did around Snape. He would find out what di Angelo was hiding, and he would expose him for the dark wizard he truly was, if it was the last thing Harry ever did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	6. After Nico Goes Crazy-Pyscho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, a thousand thank yous to Sarah and Fairn for helping me out and making this readable. 
> 
> So... 1000 hits! OMG! Yay! Thank you so much for all the support, every new hit or comment or bookmark or kudos keeps me writing. And for those of you who care, I do have a tumblr (solangelo-is-my-life.tumblr.com) so you can look me up on there if you want to.
> 
> That's all! Enjoy!
> 
> NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  
> I rewrote CH 1 - 3 after a long hiatus after CH 7. I have not rewritten 4 - 7 (yet) so you'll see a drop off in the usual style and quality. Please be kind! I'm a scriptwriter, not a prose writer, so this fic was my literal first go at prose writing, and I was not that good at it! It picks up again in CH 8 and continues in quality for the rest of the fic. I'm sorry if it's hard to get through, but the other side it worth it!

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

Nico ran all the way back to the dorms. Once he got to the entrance, it took him a second to get the password to leave his lips due to the dryness of his throat. Finally, he muttered “parselmouth” and entered. He was alone in the greenish light of the common room. Immediately Nico fell to his knees. He was felt so weak. He was exhausted, and drained. Even the task of summoning a simple fly from the shadows seemed like too great of a task for him to accomplish. All Nico wanted to do at this point was collapse onto the ground like a dead weight. _I’m not a monster,_ he began chanting in his head. _I’m not a monster, I’m not a monster._

Why did Harry have to goad him? Why did Nico have to sense Harry’s shadow on the ground? Why did he have to respond the way he did? A multitude of emotions churned in Nico's head.He was angry at Harry, and disgusted at himself. The situation seemed hopeless, and it didn't help that the burning need for pain was screaming through all of those muddled feelings. His ambrosia and towel were back by his bed. He felt so weak he could barely move, it felt as if his emotions were attacking him, pounding at his skull like a loud, clanging bell.

Nico resisted the urge for about a minute until he couldn’t think about anything else anymore. He needed the sweet feel of the blade. The glorious pain it brought, the peaceful feelings from after he cut. It was too tempting. Nico knelt in the corner by the fire, so even if someone left their room he would be concealed by the shadows. Nico took off his cloak, took out his blade, and bit his lip. It felt weird kneeling down on the cold ground instead of his towel. _One,_ he counted off in his head. _Two. Three._

After he’d thought the word sixty about ten times, he pulled his cloak back on. The fabric was dark enough to hide the fact that blood was still seeping from the wound. He walked back to his dorm slowly, trying not to be distracted by the sheer bliss of the pain in his arm. When he reached his bed, he dug for the ambrosia, rolled up his sleeves, and smeared some of the godly food on his cuts. It closed, leaving a small, red line like Nico’s deeper cuts sometimes did. He had about seven in total. Not too many, considering how long he’d cut. The ambrosia did its job well.

Not wanting to go to bed yet, Nico fished around until he found his stash of drachma. He walked from where he sat in his dorm, careful not to wake up Malfoy or his cronies on his journey back to the Slytherin common room. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It made a rainbow easier than a sink did. How Nico managed to make one from the sink on the Hogwarts Express, he’d never know.

“Will Solace,” Nico uttered. “Camp Half-Blood.”

The vision opened, and Will was walking back to his cabin after dinner. It looked around eight pm back at camp. No campfires at camp during the year, Nico remembered. He was glad, since the IM would be in front of the entire camp had there been one going on. Will, noticing the shimmering figure of Nico behind him, turned and smiled. “Hey, Neeks! Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I did something bad, Will. Really bad.” Nico’s voice cracked. While the cutting had taken away some of his pain, it hadn’t had the full effect it normally did. Nico needed to talk to someone.

“What happened?” Will asked. Nico told him everything. How he’d left his bed after lights-out to search for the horcrux in the wall. How Harry had found him. The fight that had followed. Harry’s vow to expose him as a Death Eater, whatever that was. By the end, Will’s face had turned pale.

“Nico, are you ok?” he asked. “Did Harry hurt you, or - ”

“He was too busy trying to defend himself from my magic,” Nico admitted guiltily. “I even wanted to use my sword against him.”

“You shouldn’t have fought him, but it wasn’t your fault. Harry goaded you into a fight.” Will reassured him.

“Not my fault?! Will, I tried to _kill_ him!”

“That sword would’ve passed right through him if you’d used it, and you know that.”

“But I could’ve killed him with the shadows,” Nico argued back, mostly playing  Devil’s advocate.

He knew he wouldn’t have killed Harry. Because of his sister’s death, Nico knew the pain of losing a loved one  and had vowed to never to inflict that pain upon someone else’s family. While still in the labyrinth, he had vowed to never take an innocent life. Sure, he had injured demigods in the Battle of Manhattan, but never killed them; only the monsters, which he knew would reform from Tartarus eventually. It wasn’t the kind of thing that would make pacifists bow down to him, but it was something to keep him sane. As though somehow, by killing only the monsters, he was prevented from being the monster that he feared he was.

“You wouldn’t have. You’re not that kind of person.” Will's reply was aligned with Nico's current train of thought.

But self-doubt bubbled back up again. _I’m just the kind of person who radiates death and cuts himself for fun._

“Now go to bed. Doctor’s orders. You look like crap.”

“It’s Friday night. I can sleep in,” Nico sighed, rolling his eyes. “You aren't actually a doctor. You can't tell me what to do. Show me a PhD, then I'll believe you. But, you don't have one. So you can't boss me around.”

Will pretended to look hurt. “Yes I can,” he countered, and Nico couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Just go to bed. Dream about me, if you want.”

Nico laughed. “Always, Solace. Goodnight.” Will waved the mist away, and Nico walked over to turn off the shower. _I love you, Will,_ Nico found himself thinking. He froze. _What? I don’t love him. It’s been, like, a week since our first kiss._

_But you’ve had a crush on him for a year, another part of Nico argued. Admit it. You love him._

_No, I don’t. Shut up._ Nico walked back to his bed, trying to clear his head. He grabbed his iPod and hovered over his playlist for Will, thumb hanging over the play button. He was tempted to say 'screw it' and start it up, but he decided otherwise. Nico set his iPod on shuffle nonchalantly, laying back as the song, "I Hope You Dance" began to play. He couldn't help but smile. It was his sister's favorite song. To think that'd be the first song to play as Nico drifted off to sleep.

** ____________________HARRY____________________ **

“Harry, I did it! I’m in! I’m Keeper!” Ron shouted, rushing over to Harry.

“What? Oh- brilliant!” Harry replied, trying to smile naturally. His heart was racing and his hand pounded with pain as blood seeped from the fresh cuts. He replayed the fight with di Angelo in his mind over and over. He’d been so close to death…

“Have a butterbeer.” Ron gave him a bottle forcefully. Harry took it slowly, like he was in a dream. “I can’t believe it - where’s Hermione gone?”

“She’s sleeping on the couches,” Jackson pointed out, walking over to them. Harry’s heart began to race from fear. Did Jackson know about his cousin’s dark magic? Did he have dark magic too? “And I made the team too. As - how did Angelina put it? - a backup, in case someone from the team is sick or something.”

“Like a bench player,” Ron explained happily. “Percy was amazing! For his first time on a broom, he’s a natural!” Harry wondered if Ron would’ve had that kind of tone around Jackson if he knew what di Angelo had done to Harry.

“Come on, Ron, Percy. Let’s see if Oliver’s old robes fit one of you,” called Katie Bell. “We can take off his name and put yours on instead.”

Ron and Jackson followed Katie. Angelina walked up to Harry, making him jump, he was still on edge from the fight with di Angelo. “Sorry I was a bit short with you earlier, Potter,” Angelina said suddenly. “It’s stressful, this managing lark, you know, I’m starting to think I was a bit hard on Wood sometimes.” She was watching Ron over the rim of her butterbeer with a frown. “Look, I know he’s your best mate, but he’s not fabulous. I think with a bit of training he’ll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I’m banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest. Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper’s a real whiner, he’s always moaning about something or other, and Vicky’s involved in all sorts of societies, she admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charm Club she’d put Charms first. Anyway, we’re having a practice session at 2 o’clock on Sunday, so just make sure you’re there this time. And do me a favor and help Ron as much as you can?” She glanced back at Ron and Jackson, who were talking enthusiastically with Katie, Fred, and George about something. “Percy, too. He’s talented, but has so little experience. Seemed a bit uncomfortable in the air, like he was going to get blasted out of the sky or something. Just help them out, ok?”

Harry nodded, though he was a bit hesitant because it meant spending more time with someone who he suspected was a dark wizard. He needed to talk to someone about what di Angelo had done, and now that it looked like Ron was buddy-buddy with Percy Jackson. He couldn’t go up to him for help. So, he moved over to sit next to Hermione, who woke up with a jerk as he put his bag down.

“Oh, Harry, it’s you… good about Ron, isn’t it?” she said tiredly. “I’m just so - so - so tired.” A yawn interrupted her. “I was up until one o’clock making more hats. They’re disappearing like mad!” Harry looked around, noticing all the woolly hats strewn all over the common room.

“Hermione, I need to talk to you about di Angelo. But you can’t tell Ron, now that he’s friends with Jackson, of all people,” Harry whispered bitterly, so that no one could overhear.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, concern lacing her voice.

“I ran into him on my way back from detention with Umbridge,” Harry started.

Hermione’s eyes became the size of saucers. “You did? But he shouldn’t have been out of his common room!” she exclaimed.

“I know, it’s why I went to investigate. Yet somehow found me. We got into a fight, and he was able to bewitch the shadows to hold me while he put his sword up to my neck. He’s using dark magic.”

Hermione gasped. “He was?!”

“And here’s the worst of it: he wasn’t even using a wand. It was wandless magic, Hermione. He’d need to be really powerful to do something like that.”

“I can’t even do wandless magic,” Hermione whispered, a frightened look crossing her face. “This is really bad, Harry. You should tell someone!”

“Who?” Harry asked. “No one’d believe me.”

“Dumbledore!” Hermione exclaimed. “Go to Dumbledore!”

“He approved Jackson, Chase, and di Angelo to come here in the first place. He wouldn’t have done that unless he looked into them, which means he trusts them. Who’s he going to believe, Hermione? His own gut instinct or some 15 year old?” Plus he hasn’t talked to me in months, Harry added silently.

“Then write Sirius! He’ll believe you!” Hermione suggested, but Harry shook his head.

“He can’t do anything. None of the Order can. We’ll have to deal with di Angelo ourselves.”

“Well, can do some more research on Lares tomorrow,” Hermione promised. “Once we know what di Angelo’s hiding, we can find proof and expose him.”

Harry nodded, approving of the plan. That was when Ron noticed the two of them all alone and walked over, ushering them back into the party. But Harry didn’t really feel like celebrating.

** ____________________HERMIONE____________________ **

 

Despite the fact that Ron had become friends with Percy Jackson, he still decided to help Harry and Hermione expose di Angelo as a Death Eater.

“Maybe Percy doesn’t know about di Angelo,” Ron was saying as they walked to the library. “Maybe di Angelo’s like Sirius, the outlier of the family.”

“Maybe,” Hermione offered, though she wasn’t sure if she believed that. One look at Harry’s face and she knew he didn’t. Sure, Jackson seemed plenty nice and interested in learning about the British wizards, but it was so rare that a Death Eater child came from a non-Death Eater family. Kids generally copied what their parents thought, and if their parents thought of Muggle-borns, like herself, as mudbloods, so did the kids. It was that simple.

They reached the library, and began the long day of looking through books. Just like all the other times, they couldn’t find any mention of Lares in any kind of history, or theory book, even in the chapters that mentioned important ghosts. Desperate, Hermione mentioned the name to Madam Pince, but she couldn’t think of any book that would have any mention of Lares in them. In fact, she didn’t even know the word.

It was when Hermione was looking through _A Recent History of American Magic_ when Ron exclaimed “Hey, look here!” Hermione and Harry hurried over to him and he pointed to a single sentence in his book, _A Wizard’s Guide to Medieval Times._

Hermione read the sentence out loud. “‘In England, worshipers of Lares died out in the early dark ages, about the 5th century C.E., as wizards switched from Roman practices to Christian, favoring Jesus Christ over the past polytheistic gods and goddesses.’ That means…” Hermione’s mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. She ran back to Madam Pince and said “Can I have a book on Greco-Roman mythology?” she asked. Madam Pince walked over to a bookshelf in the east wing of the library, giving her a thick encyclopedia. “Thanks!” Hermione ran back over to Harry and Ron, turning the pages until the found the section on Roman spirits. “There!” she exclaimed, and began to read.

 

 

> Domestic Gods. Lares. Pennates.
> 
> Lares were the departed spirits of ancestors who watched over their descents, and were worshiped as tutelary gods in every mansion, as such termed Lares Familiares. The whole city being the dwelling of the Roman people, who might be regarded as forming one great family, had its Lares Praestites, whose appearance and festival, celebrated on the first of May, (Kal. Mai.) are described in the Fasti of Ovid (V. 129 seqq.). In the like manner there were groups of Lares Publici, worshipped as Lares Rurales, Lares Compitales, Lares Viales, Lares Permarini, etc.
> 
> Penates were deities selected by each family as its special protectors, and were worshipped along with the Lares in the Pentralia of each mansion, that is, as the Focus or hearth, which was the centre of the dwelling, and therefore the spot most remote from the outer world. The term Penates is frequently used to denote all the Gods worshipped at the domestic hearth, and in this sense comprehends the Lares, who must not, however, be considered identical with the Penates, when the latter term is used in its restricted sense.
> 
> As there were Public Lares so there were Public Penates. Amidst the obscurity and contradictions which surrounded the statements of ancient writers on this subject, we are led to the conclusion that the Penates Populi Romani, were worshipped under the form of two youthful writers who, in later times at least, were regarded identical with Castor and Pollux, and were believed to have some connection with the mysterious Dii Cabiri of Samothrace. They are generally represented on horseback bearing long spears, which conical caps on their heads, whence they are called by Catulus, Fratres Pileati.

Hermione looked up first, seeing Harry and Ron with confused expressions on their faces.

“Can you just translate that to English, Hermione?” Ron asked, causing Hermione to sigh out of frustration. Didn’t they realize what this new information meant?

“It means,” she began, “that di Angelo’s dad isn’t just obsessed with ghosts. It means he’s obsessed with warriors.” Harry's and Ron's eyes grew wide with shock.. “This says that Lares and Penates, a kind of Lar, were household spirits. Certain dead people regarded as gods who protected the household at any cost. If di Angelo’s father is a Death Eater, and Voldemort - ” Ron flinched “ - knew about Lares, especially one connected to one of his followers - ”

“ - he’d have an army of unbeatable ghosts,” Harry finished, Hermione nodding in agreement.

“Better than Inferi,” she added. “This isn’t good.”

“Not good?” Ron asked harshly. “That’s the understatement of the century, Hermione. Merlin’s beard…” They sat there for a while, the open book on the table, speechless and gaping at the new information. “We need to tell the Order about this.”

“How?” Hermione asked. “We can’t just put something like this in a letter. We don’t know if they’re being intercepted anymore.” Suddenly, a terrifying thought popped into Hermione’s head. “That’s why di Angelo’s at Hogwarts. Not only could he be giving inside information to Voldemort - ”

“Would you stop saying his name, Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, but Hermione ignored him.

“Not only could he be giving inside information to Voldemort, but he could be doing research on the ghosts too, seeing if they’re any kind of match for Lares. That might be why he was out of bed last night. He was taking advantage of the empty castle to study the ghosts.”

There was a long silence while Harry and Ron let that sink in. “If that’s the case,” Harry said, “We’ll have to expose di Angelo. Once everyone knows who he is, and that he’s hiding this, they’ll have to expel him and he won’t be able to do any more damage.” Hermione and Ron both nodded. They knew it was that desperate. “And I know exactly who to ask.”

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

“You want my help, Potter?” Malfoy asked.

Harry grit his teeth. The smugness on Malfoy’s face make him want to turn around and forget the whole stupid idea, but his hatred of Voldemort and di Angelo outweighed his hatred of Malfoy.

“You hate di Angelo. I hate di Angelo. Why not get him expelled together?” Harry offered, doing his best to keep his voice level.

“I agree, Hogwarts would be a better place without him. But what reason would you have for wanting the filthy muggle-lover out?” Malfoy asked, Harry ignoring the jab at muggles Malfoy had thrown in there.

“He’s dangerous,” Harry explained, Malfoy’s expression darkening. “He threatened me on the train for no reason. Isn’t that good enough?”

“I suppose. I have the perfect plan,” Malfoy whispered. “If you’re not too scared to break the rules that is, Potter.” He explained it to Harry. It seemed downright evil, but then again, so was di Angelo. Malfoy extended his hand, and after a second Harry took it. There was no going back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger. The next chapter's gonna be a big one...


	7. Nico Flies Like Superman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, this is one of my personal favorite chapters...
> 
> Special thanks as usual to Fairn and Sarah for making this readable.
> 
> NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  
> I rewrote CH 1 - 3 after a long hiatus after CH 7. I have not rewritten 4 - 7 (yet) so you'll see a drop off in the usual style and quality. Please be kind! I'm a scriptwriter, not a prose writer, so this fic was my literal first go at prose writing, and I was not that good at it! It picks up again in CH 8 and continues in quality for the rest of the fic. I'm sorry if it's hard to get through, but the other side it worth it!

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

Harry was the first to wake up in his dorm Sunday morning. Two thoughts swirled in his mind: school would begin the next day, and Malfoy’s plan would go down that afternoon. Hopefully it would work, and di Angelo would be expelled.

It was early in the morning, just after sunrise. Despite this, Harry got dressed in the light of the dawn, listening to the birds chirping and the deep breathing of his roommates. Before going into the common room, he grabbed some parchment, ink, and a quill from his school bag.

The common room looked the same as the day before, which seemed weird to Harry because so much had happened. Who would’ve thought that in 24 hours he’d have figured out who Nico was, what he was planning, and have a plan to expose him with Malfoy? _It’s funny,_ Harry thought, _how nothing happens for a week and suddenly, everything falls into place._

Harry knew he had to tell the Order what was going on, whether Hermione thought it was smart or not. Besides, he wanted to know what had happened to Hagrid. Harry was smart enough to know that he couldn’t just write anything, but he had to say something. He sat back in the squishy armchair he often sat in in the common room, deep in thought. He remembered Ron and Hermione’s cryptic letters from over summer, realizing how hard it must’ve been for them to write him at all. How could he tell Sirius about everything without letting anyone else know what he was talking about?

Finally, he dipped his quill into the ink bottle and began to write:

 

> Dear Snuffles,
> 
> Hope you’re ok. The first week back here’s been terrible, I’m really glad it’s the weekend. We’ve got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor  Umbridge. She’s about as nice as your mum.
> 
> There are also three new exchange students at Hogwarts this year.: Two seventh years named Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, and a Slytherin boy named Nico di Angelo. Percy’s in Gryffindor with me. He seems nice enough, he even made the Quidditch team with Ron! Annabeth seems nice too. She’s Percy’s girlfriend but since she’s a Ravenclaw, I don’t know her very well. Nico’s in my Potions and Care of Magical Creatures class, he’s as nice as Draco Malfoy.
> 
> I’m writing to you because on Friday night, I was coming back from detention with Umbridge and Nico was there. We were talking, and we ended up getting into a fight. I’m not going to bore you with the specifics, but basically there were a few bruises, and that was about it. It reminded me of the other fight I had in the spring of my third year. We didn’t get in trouble this time, though, don’t worry.
> 
> We’re all missing our biggest friend, we hope he’ll be back soon.
> 
> Please write back quickly.
> 
> Best,
> 
> -Harry

 

Harry read the letter over and over again. He didn’t see how an eavesdropper would understand Harry was talking about dark magic. He wanted to include the stuff about wandless magic, Lares, and Nico’s dad, but he didn’t see how he could tell Sirius that without anyone knowing what he was talking about. He hoped Sirius would pick up the hint about Hagrid; he figured that drawing attention to the fact that Hagrid wasn’t in Hogwarts wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.

The letter had taken a while to write. By the time it was finished, the sun had moved much higher in the sky and Harry could hear people getting up in the dorms above him. Harry sealed the parchment carefully and climbed through the portrait hole, heading to the Owlery.

“I would _not_ go that way if I were you,” Nearly Headless Nick warned, drifting through a wall in front of Harry as he walked down the passage. “Peeves is planning an amusing joke on the next person to pass the bust of Paracelsus halfway down the corridor.”

“Does it involve the Paracelsus falling on top of the person’s head?” Harry asked.

“Funnily enough, it _does_ ,” Nearly Headless Nick replied boredly. “Subtlety has never been Peeves’ strong point. I’m off to try and find the Bloody Baron… he might be able to put a stop to it… see you, Harry…” Nick began to leave, when Harry remembered di Angelo, and Hermione’s guess as to why he’d been up so late Friday night.

“Hey Nick! Has Nico di Angelo been talking to the ghosts at all?” Harry asked. If Nick could get pale, he did at the mention of di Angelo’s name.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you even ask such a thing?” The way Nick had said that made Harry worried.

“I was just curious. His cousin Percy said di Angelo was interested in ghosts.” At Harry’s words, Nick got suddenly shifty.

“Interested? That’s not the right word for it, but, well, I must be going. Give the prince - I mean Nico - my best,” Nick managed, then disappeared through another wall. Prince? Harry wondered. _What did he mean prince? Prince of what?_

After a small run-in with Mrs. Norris, who looked like she was about to report something to Filch, Harry entered the Owlery and looked for Hedwig. “There you are,” he said when he found her in the rafters of the Owlery. “Get down here, I’ve got a letter for you.” With a low hoot, Hedwig flew down to meet Harry and landed on his shoulder. “Right, I know this says ‘Snuffles’ on the outside, but it’s for Sirius ok?” His voice was a low whisper, but he wasn't sure why. Hedwig blinked once, and Harry assumed that meant that she understood. “Safe flight, then.”

Harry stared out the window, as another winged horse-thing swooped out of the forest. It circled like it was searching for something, then swooped back down. Harry was so busy watching the horse-thing that when the Owlery door opened, Harry jumped in shock. He turned, seeing that it was Cho Chang, a package held in her grasp.

“Hi,” Harry greeted her automatically.

“Oh… hi,” Cho said breathlessly. “I didn’t think anyone would be up here this early… I only remembered five minutes ago, it’s my mum’s birthday.” She held up the package, him realizing it was a present for her mum.

“Right,” he replied. His mind had turned to mush. He wanted to say something funny and interesting, but all he could think about was that stupid horse-thing. “Nice day.” He gestured to the windows, his face starting to get hot from embarrassment. The weather. He was talking about the _weather_ …

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking for an owl to send her package with. “Good Quidditch conditions. I haven’t been out all week, have you?”

“No.”

She found one of the school's barn owls and coaxed it down, affixing the package to it. “Has Gryffindor found a new Keeper yet?”

“Yeah, it’s my friend Ron Weasley, d’you know him?”

“The Tornado-hater?” Cho asked. “Is he any good?”

“Yeah, I think so. I didn’t see his tryout, though. I was in detention.” Harry debated mentioning Percy, but decided not to in case Angelina wanted to use him as a secret weapon or something.

Cho looked up from her owl, the package hanging off its leg. “That Umbridge woman’s foul,” she whispered. “Putting you in detention just because you told the truth about how - how - how he died. Everyone heard about it, it was all over the school. You were really brave standing up to her like that.”

Harry was so happy he had to force himself not to give a huge smile. He might’ve actually started to float a few inches above the floor. Who cared about those stupid horse-things, Cho thought he had been really brave. For a second he considered accidently-on-purpose showing her his cut hand as he helped her tie her package onto the owl’s leg… but as soon as he thought that, the Owlery door opened again.

It was Filch, so purple and out of breath it was obvious he’d run to the Owlery. “I’ve had a tip-off that you are intending to place a massive order of Dungbombs!”

Harry crossed his arms and stared at the caretaker in disbelief. “Who told you I was ordering Dungbombs?” Cho was looking between Harry and Filch, frowning. The barn owl on her arm seemed annoyed that it was no longer getting attention, but Cho ignored it.

“I have my sources,” Filch hissed. “Now hand over whatever it is you’re sending.”

 _Good thing I was quick with Hedwig,_ Harry thought. “I can’t, it’s gone.”

“ _Gone_?” Filch demanded furiously.

“Gone,” Harry replied calmly.

Filch opened his mouth furiously, like he was going to say something, then stared at the pocket of Harry’s robes. “How do I know you haven’t got it in your pocket?” he asked.

“Because - ” Harry started to say, but Cho cut him off.

“I saw him send it,” she told the caretaker, finishing Harry’s sentence for him.

Filch turned to her angrily. “You saw him - ?”

“That’s right, I saw him,” she said fiercely. There was a small silence where Cho and Filch were glaring at each other, then finally Filch lost their staring contest and looked away.

“If I get so much as a whiff of a Dungbomb…” he muttered as he left the Owlery. Harry and Cho looked at each other.

“Thanks,” Harry gave a small smile.

“No problem,” Cho replied, and directed her energy back to the owl on her shoulder. “You weren’t ordering Dungbombs, were you?”

“No,” he promised her.

“I wonder why he thought you were, then?” She carried the owl to the window as she spoke, and let it out into the morning. With an unspoken agreement, both of them walked together, once their hands brushed, sending electricity down Harry’s spine. Finally, she turned to him. “I’m going this way. Well, I’ll… I’ll see you around, Harry.”

“Yeah…” Harry muttered dreamily. “See you.”

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

Annabeth was reading (in Ancient Greek of course) when Cho Chang came into the common room, smiling and humming something.

“You’re in a good mood,” Annabeth commented, smiling. She knew the signs of a crush like the back of her hand. First she had gone through it herself with Percy, then she’d watched it happen to Jason and Piper, then Frank and Hazel. Cho had it bad.

“Yeah,” Cho replied happily, causing Annabeth to laugh. “What are you reading?” Cho leaned over Annabeth’s shoulder. “Is that… Greek?”

“Yep,” Annabeth closed the book in case Cho knew modern Greek. Reading in Ancient Greek was like putting a sign around your neck that said you’re a demigod.

“I didn’t know you could read Greek,” Cho mused. “Are you Greek?”

“No,” Annabeth half-lied. “But Percy and Nico are. Percy taught me when we first met.” Well, it had actually been the other way around, but Percy and Nico looked so Greek that there was no hiding the fact that they were somehow related to that country. With Annabeth’s blond hair and grey eyes, she looked more Swedish or Swiss, or something else in that general area. “Want to head to the Great Hall? I’m starving.”

Cho agreed, and the two headed off to go grab breakfast. When they arrived, Percy saw her entering and got up to meet her, kissing her ‘hello’ on the cheek. “Hey, wise girl. Haven’t seen you all weekend.”

“Getting to know my new housemates,” Annabeth told him. “Sorry I don’t have all the time in the world for you, seaweed brain.” Annabeth flashed a flirty smile at Percy, causing him to smile back.

“Looks like I have some competition here,” Percy noted.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Cho smiled good-naturedly, and walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

Once Cho had left, Percy kissed Annabeth properly, and smiled at her. “I never see you except for in Charms class. How are we supposed to hang out if we never have any free time together?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Annabeth promised him, leaning in for another kiss. “We’ll make it work.” She smiled and brushed a stray hair off of Percy’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Percy replied. After a bit more kissing, Percy spoke again. “I’m worried about the quest, it’s been a week, and we’ve got basically nothing done.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed. “But it’s only been a week. Some quests take longer than others, Percy.”

“I know, but if we don’t do anything, nothing’s gonna happen. You’ve got to have some kind of plan,” Percy prompted.

Annabeth nodded. “You know me.” A small smile creeping back onto her lips. “I’m going to talk to Dumbledore. I’ve got a meeting with him this afternoon. I don’t think he told us all he knew. If I can convince him to talk to me… well, this quest will go a lot faster if we know more. I’m sure he knows something about Riddle, he’s just not saying it.”

“Good plan. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll improvise.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Shut up, seaweed brain.”

Percy smiled and drew her in for another kiss. “Only if you make me.”

That afternoon, Annabeth went to the headmaster’s office. "Fizzing Whizbee," was what she uttered to the gargoyle to have it move aside and reveal the staircase to Dumbledore's study.. She climbed up the stairs, and saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. He was writing something on a piece of parchment. In the back of her mind, Annabeth wondered what it said. “Professor, sir?”

Dumbledore looked up from his work. “Yes, Miss Chase? I take it this is an update on the quest” he asked.

Annabeth nodded in response. “Percy and I were talking, and we think that we don’t know enough to complete it. Nico does too, though he’d never admit it. I was hoping that, now that we have some time, we could talk some more about the horcruxes, since the more my friends and I know the better.” Annabeth said each word slowly so she could calculate Dumbledore’s reaction, but he didn’t give anything away.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed, and Annabeth felt the feeling of victory swell in her stomach. “What kind of information are you seeking, Miss Chase?”

“I need to know more about Tom Riddle. I was thinking: the horcruxes must be important to him, because they keep him alive. And that made me think of Daedalus, and how he was afraid of death. If Riddle was like him and also feared death, he would try to keep the horcruxes safe, in places he figured only he knew. I think that the best way to find them would be to learn more about him as a person, so I could guess where he’d think his horcruxes are safe. Besides, I think it’s a good idea to know my enemy, so I can make plans that take his next move into account,” Annabeth explained. All the times she’d practiced saying it paid off, because Dumbledore’s eyes lit up.

“I see no reason not to teach you,” Dumbledore replied. “I will send you an owl when I have the time to start our lessons. You may tell your companions about this, but no one else. I think Professor Umbridge would not approve of what we’re planning to do.”

Annabeth turned to leave, but stopped, a thought popping into her head. “Were you Riddle’s teacher? Did he go to Hogwarts?”

"Yes, I was, in the sense I am yours. And yes, to your other question. He was, indeed, a student here at Hogwarts."

“Then,” Annabeth continued, her brain moving a hundred miles an hour, “what did you think? When you first saw him, I mean. Did you know who he’d become?”

“I knew there was an element of darkness to him, but I hoped he could overcome it. Unfortunately, I was wrong,” Dumbledore told her, then went back to his writing. Annabeth’s audience with the headmaster had ended.

**____________________NICO____________________**

**  
** Nico was eating a late breakfast with Blaise and Hestia when Percy came up to him, holding a long, thin package. “You’ll never guess what just came in the mail, cuz,” Percy whispered excitedly.

“Is that your broom?” Blaise asked, obviously conflicted between wanting to hate a member of Gryffindor and wanting to be nice to Nico’s cousin.

“Like I said, just came in the mail. Couldn’t find Annabeth anywhere, but I don’t want to wait to open it.” Percy directed his words at Nico, who gave a small nod.

“Open it,” he said, clearly interested. Percy ripped the packaging, tearing the pieces off fervently until the tip of the handle was revealed. He pulled quickly, revealing the entire broom. It was amazing. Nico saw an orange-brown handle swirling up to a mesh of twigs fastened at the end with bronze. The golden letters ‘Cleansweep 11’ shone on the broomstick. After Percy had made the team on Friday, the two figured it would be weird if Percy didn’t have a broom. So, they used some of their quest money to buy a Cleansweep. The currency was so weird that neither Percy nor Nico knew if the broom was cheap or not, but they were going with not.

“This is sweet!” Percy said, touching the handle. “Want to go outside and give this thing a ride?”

Nico nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he told Blaise and Hestia, before heading off to the Quidditch pitch with Percy.

“I’m glad you found friends in Slytherin,” Percy commented while they were walking. “They nice?”

“Yeah,” Nico assured him. “They’re cool. Still trying to figure out if Hestia’s a demigod though.”

“You think?” Percy asked.

“With a name like that? It’s possible. Hey, can I ride it first, Percy?”

“Sure, just let me show you what to do when we get out to the pitch.” Despite everything else, Nico was excited. The pegasi never liked him much, because he always smelled like death. And he wanted to know what it was like to fly the way the other demigods did.

Percy showed him how to steer and fly, and Nico got the hang of it pretty quickly. Percy laid the broom on the ground, instructing Nico to shout, "Up!" Nico followed Percy's instructions, laughing like a giddy child when the broom shot up into his hand.

“Go on!” Percy encouraged.

Nico kicked off the ground, rising higher and higher until Percy looked the size of an ant.

“Yeah Nico!” Percy shouted as Nico soared through the sky, the wind zipping through his hair.

It felt amazing to be up on a broomstick. He never wanted to come down. He felt like a kid again, innocent and free. He zipped through the sky, staying close enough to see Percy, but only just. After what seemed like only a minute, Percy motioned for Nico to land and he did, though he didn’t want to.

“That was incredible!” Nico cried, his eyes lighting up.

Percy smiled at him happily. “I’m glad. You remind me of this little kid I found at Westover Hall. Wonder where’s he been all this time?”

Nico gave a small smile. “I dunno. Around here, somewhere.” The son of Hades thought about Westover Hall. The bright-eyed little kid he’d been while he was there. So much had changed since then. He’d learned so much about himself… he found himself wishing for that innocence again. Being free from responsibility. Here he had a chance to do that, to accept Teddy Lupin’s help, and he was resisting it. Nico thought about telling Percy, but he was interrupted when he saw two figures come into the arena: Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

Harry noticed Nico a second after Nico did. “What are you doing here, di Angelo?!” Harry spat.

"I must be doing something evil. Can't just be minding me own business and talking to my cousin," Nico shot back.

Harry's hands clenched into fists. “I know exactly what you’re up to, and I’m going to stop you,” Harry vowed, through gritted teeth.

Nico laughed coldly. “Remember the last time that happened, Potter? I’ll bet you’re still having nightmares.”

“I’m not going to rest until I stop you, you filthy Death Eater! Soon the whole school’s going to know you’re using the dark arts!” Harry shouted.

“And?” Nico goaded. “What are they going to do? You have no idea what you’re dealing with, Potter.”

“You just wait, di Angelo.” Harry threatened. “You’re going to regret the day you met me,” Harry drew his wand the moment Nico grabbed his sword, but before anything could happen Percy jumped in between them.

“Ok, stop it you guys before someone gets killed! Just- just put the sword down, Nico. Ron, get Harry to put down his wand!” Percy shouted, but Ron didn’t move, he was staring at Nico with… was that fear in his eyes? Nico was so angry he couldn’t even think. “Give me the sword, Nico. You don’t want to hurt him.”

“You see - you see how he treats me? How could you defend him?!” Nico spat venomously.

“I’m not defending him, I’m trying to protect you,” Percy countered.

“Well, I don’t want your protection!” Nico shouted, and ran back towards the castle. He rounded the corner, Percy’s, Ron’s, and Harry’s shadows all running after him. Nico reached the grounds where a bunch of students were milling around, one of which was Draco Malfoy, who stepped in Nico’s path. “Get out of my way, Malfoy!” Nico yelled.

“You’re going to regret threatening me,” Malfoy said ominously, and summoned something with his wand. Immediately, there was a gasp from the students around him, as whatever it was transformed into a dead body. Then another, then another. Soon, Nico was standing ankle-deep in corpses, a olive-skinned girl with jet black hair and a floppy green hat standing alone in the battlefield.

Bianca.

Nico reached out to her, but she pulled away before Nico could touch her, a terrified look on her face. “Y- you killed them, Nico! You killed them all!”

“I didn’t!” Nico cried.

“You did! Y- you killed them all! You’re a monster!” Bianca started to back away from him, Nico wanted to go after her, but his feet were glued to the ground. “You’re a monster! Dad should’ve killed you when he had the chance!”

“Bianca - ” Nico started to say, but Bianca shook her head rapidly, tears streaming down her face.

“You’ve always been a monster! You’ll always be a monster! You killed Percy! You killed Annabeth! You killed me!” Nico reached out like he wanted to touch her, and Bianca grasped her throat. Nico saw her own shadow was suffocating her.

“Stop it!” he screamed, but Bianca fell to the ground. Nico fell to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Bianca!”

“You’re a monster!” Bianca gasped with her final breath. “Get away from me! I never want to see you again, you killer! You monster!”

“Bianca, please!” Nico pleaded. “You don’t mean that!”

“Don’t you remember why I joined the Hunters?” Bianca asked weakly, then her head fell limp. Nico let out an agonized scream, the bodies piled higher and higher, and suddenly more of his friends joined Bianca’s body. Jason. Hazel. Frank. Piper. Thalia. Reyna. Annabeth. Percy. Will.

Nico ran to Will’s body, and held up its head. He looked like he was sleeping, but his body was cold. Nico knew immediately the shadows had done this. He’d done this. “I’m a monster,” Nico whispered, as he began to cry.. He ran over to Hazel’s lifeless body, her hand cold and limp in his. He’d killed his sister. Again.

“No!” Nico screamed again. “Hazel! Wake up! Wake - ” He couldn’t finish his sentence, too overcome with tears to continue.

“You did this,” a windy whisper told him. It was his father. “I should’ve let your sister live. You’re too dangerous.”

“Please, father!” Nico cried. “I only wanted to serve  you.”

“You could never be my son. I’m ashamed to have sired you.” In a flash, Nico felt the life draining from his body. His own father was trying to kill him.

“ _No_!” Nico screamed. Back in the reality of the Hogwarts grounds the dead were rising from the ground at his cry, scattering in between the horrified onlookers and grabbing them, but Nico was so terrified he couldn’t control his own powers. As the dead took the followers of Hecate hostage, Nico curled up in fetal position, waiting for his father to take the life from his body. _I’m a monster,_ Nico thought. _I’m a killer._

 _I’m no better than Tom Riddle,_ he thought and let darkness consume him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAHAHAHA


	8. This is Why Teaming Up with Malfoy is a TERRIBLE IDEA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demigods and wizards all deal with the aftermath of Nico’s vision and summoning of the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen  
> Trigger Warning: Mild Violence + Imagery  
> Word Count: 5418
> 
>  
> 
> Ok! I’m back and updating regularly again! As usual, updates will be every Sunday by 8 PM EST, and I won’t be missing days anymore. I finally figured out how to schedule posts, so that’s a huge help in that front.
> 
> If you haven’t noticed, I adopted a new format style-wise for both the notes and story itself. It’s something I’m trying out, but I personally like it a lot better. Let me know what you think, if you actually have an opinion on it.
> 
> Like I said in the story’s summary, chapters 1 - 3 have been edited, and chapters 4 - 7 are coming. They’re all the same plot-wise, except with maybe an extra sentence every once in awhile going further into what the character’s thinking. If that’s something you’d be interested in seeing, you’ll have to reread those chapters, and I’ll let you know next Sunday how many more are complete. If not, you’re not missing anything important, so it’s fine to just continue here. 
> 
> I know I said that I’d have all seven chapters done by now, but I got sick… so yeah. I figured you guys would rather me get this chapter out on time than wait another few weeks for me to finish editing the first seven, so that’s what I did. It takes me about four hours to edit one chapter from start to finish, so I hope you’ll forgive me. This is a labor of love, after all.
> 
> Oh, and if it wasn’t already clear, Blaise Zabini and Hestia Carrow, while they have names from actual characters from the Harry Potter series, aren’t supposed to be written in character. Like, at all. I basically chose two blank-slate Slytherins to incorporate into my plot. This is more of an issue with Blaise than Hestia, since Hestia was a movie-only character with (I think) no lines. Point is, I know they’re written out of character, they’re supposed to be.
> 
> I think that’s all the announcements. Enjoy, and welcome back!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

When Percy got to Nico, dead bodies surrounded him completely. Each body looked healthy enough, but their ashen skin made it pretty obvious they were dead. Either that, or they were zombies. And something told Percy that Nico's reaction wasn't because he disliked The Walking Dead.

Percy couldn't remember the last time he’d seen Nico cry like this. Even the ten-year-old who’d lost his sister had maintained a sliver of composure. Well, not exactly composure, but he, at least, seemed aware of where he was and who surrounded him. This Nico looked like he was back in Tartarus.

Even though Nico had been fine just minutes ago, he already looked like he'd been through hell and back. He held a body in his arms - with a jolt, Percy realized it was Hazel's - and screamed. Percy couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, being too far away, but he got a general idea.

Nico's hair was beyond messy, like he'd run his hands through it a million times. There was mud all over his robes, especially by the knees, where he was kneeling in the dirt. His olive skin, though it always had that pale hue, looked downright vampirish. Tears poured from an endless river down his face, leaving noticeable tracks on his cheeks. He looked like a POW, one who'd just escaped to find all his brothers-in-arms dead. He looked like he'd been standing in that sea of corpses for days, instead of seconds.

Percy, who'd been staring at Nico in shock, got ahold of himself. He took a step forward, but that was as far as he got. Nico, his arms still holding his half-sister, snapped his head up. He searched for something for half a second, then stared into the distance, like he found it. Percy turned to look, but nothing was there. Was Nico... hallucinating?

When the son of Hades spoke again, Percy didn't have to know what he was saying. He screamed in anguish, louder than the River Cocytus. As he screamed, the ground in front of him cracked open, creating a jagged crack in the earth. Percy knew that fissure - it still existed in Camp Half-Blood's dining pavilion. Instead of swallowing skeletal warriors, like it had years ago, it did the opposite. At least half a dozen skeletons, straight from Hades, climbed out. Without a child of the Underworld to give them orders, they started attacking. They didn't fix their eyes on Nico, or even Percy. Instead of attacking someone who could fight back, they marched straight for the defenseless followers of Hecate.

“Nico, stop!” Percy cried, but he got the feeling that Nico couldn't hear a word he said. Traumatized, the son of Hades had stopped talking altogether. Instead, he chose to curl up in fetal position, among the wasteland of corpses. His broken gaze was still fixed on the distant horizon, unmoving and unblinking. Nico had given up; he was ready for Thanatos to take his soul.

“No!” Percy screamed. He sprinted towards his cousin, but a skeletal warrior zoomed into his path. Hoping for a lucky break, Percy uncapped Riptide and slashed. But of course, Percy was the opposite of lucky. The celestial bronze didn't affect his enemy in the least bit. The rules were clear: only a child of the underworld could control them, or get rid of them. And the only child of underworld available was the one summoning them. Based on the way Nico was acting, he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Annabeth walking in the hallway next to the courtyard. After gaping at the scene a moment, she got ahold of herself, drew her drakon bone sword, and ran to Percy's side. All the while, she surveyed her new battlefield; Percy could practically hear the gears turning in her brain. Not for the first time, he was grateful he had such a good tactician on his side.

“I was just coming back from Dumbledore’s office… what’s going on?! Is Nico all right?!” There was no concern in Annabeth's voice. She asked to assess the situation, not to check in with Nico's state of mind. He knew she cared about Nico, but that wasn't her priority, with mortals in danger.

“I don't know what happened. Nico ran off, and when I got here, the corpses showed up. I think he's summoning these skeletons by accident."

Annabeth let loose a frustrated sigh. "Of course this had to happen..." Her eyes shifted between Nico and the mortals. They were now attempting to ward off the skeletons with magic, with no luck. "One of us has to help those mortals; the other has to calm Nico down so he can get rid of the skeletal warriors."

Percy tightened his fingers around Riptide. "I'll help the mortals."

Annabeth shook her head. “Remember what you said at that motel after King’s Cross? You want to protect Nico? Now’s the time to do it!”

“I’m not Piper! I’m not good with people, not like this!”

"You can do it, seaweed brain. You know him better than I do. Just do it fast. And don't mess up." With those words of wisdom, Annabeth ran towards the mortals, already getting her sword in place for its first swoop.

"Annabeth!" Percy called after her. She didn't respond. So, Percy did the only thing he could do - he moved towards his cousin again. When he got close to the corpses around Nico, the scene changed. Instead of a battlefield, it became a scene from Percy's worst nightmares.

His mother's body laid dead on the ground in front of him. Blood covered her entirely, bruises all over her face. Her eyes were wide with fear; her mouth was open in her last scream. Paul’s body lay beside her, mangled in the same way. Percy gasped, falling to his knees. It had to be the work of monsters, and Percy had brought it to them…

“Oh god, a boggart. Don't believe what you see!” Those words broke Percy from his daze long enough to look for its source. Behind him stood one of Nico's Slytherin friends, Blaise. “I want to help." His eyes shone with determination. "You calm Nico down, I'll take care of the boggart.”

Percy nodded to the other boy, then rushed over to Nico. It didn't help his concentration that the view of his parents' bodies appeared whenever he closed his eyes.

_It was just a stupid vision, don't think about it._

He heard a crack, and the scene - the boggart, whatever it was - disappeared. Nico didn't seem to notice. He remained on the ground, his eyes fixed to the distance, tears streaming down his face.

How could he calm Nico down? Percy remembered the last time he'd seen Nico upset; last December, Hazel, Frank, and Reyna had been visiting. The anniversary of Bianca's death happened to fall during holiday break that year. Percy remembered walking into the Hades cabin to check on Nico, and seen Hazel there, holding her brother as he cried into her arms. Percy had left before either of the siblings noticed he'd seen them, but the image was still in the back of his mind.

Nico hated people touching him; Percy knew that. But maybe, just maybe, physical comfort would help him in this state. Not knowing what else to do, Percy dropped to the ground and threw his arms around his cousin. Nico fought back, but Percy held on. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Get away from me!” Nico screamed. His eyes were wild; he looked completely insane.

“Not a chance, cuz,” Percy whispered. With Nico still fighting him, Percy helped his cousin up. He took Nico's left arm and slung it over his shoulder to support him. Now that Nico was standing, he seemed a little less resistant. Maybe. “Blaise!” Percy called. Blaise ran over to him, a skeleton close behind. “Show me the way to the infirmary. The skeletons will go away if we can calm Nico down.”

“This way.” They moved into the castle as fast as they could with Nico still fighting every step. The skeleton that had been chasing Blaise remained outside for some reason. Maybe the dark castle hallways reminded him of the underworld too much? Nico switched from his normal screaming to mumbling in Italian. At least, it sounded like Italian to Percy. He had no idea what Nico was saying, beyond the occasional ‘no’. At least that word existed in every language.

Luckily, no skeletal warrior was in the castle. At least, not in the part of the castle leading to the infirmary. Once they reached the hospital wing, Percy laid Nico on the first bed he saw. He knelt next to him, forcing Nico to look him in the eye. “Nico! Talk to me. Now.”

Nico shouted in Italian again, but Percy had no idea what he was saying. Maybe it was just gibberish? He glanced at Blaise, who looked just as confused as Percy felt. Could Nico even understand what Percy was saying in this state?

“Tell me about something," Percy tried again. "Um… Mythomagic. Tell me about it.”

“Mythomagic…?” Nico's voice was breathy, and his eyes were still full of a crazy kind of light.

“Mythomagic,” Percy repeated. “Just pretend you’re at Westover Hall again, talking to Grover and me by the tents.”

“I asked if Annabeth was your girlfriend,” Nico mumbled. “Called it.”

Percy smiled. “Yeah, you did. Now tell me about Mythomagic.”

Nico rolled his eyes, looking away. “Not… not in a million years…”

“Mythomagic. Tell me,” Percy insisted.

Nico hesitated for a few moments, a blank look in his eyes. But then, he started to talk, the breathiness slipping out of his voice. He mentioned things like attack power, and other stuff Percy didn't understand. It seemed to do the trick, though, because that crazy light in Nico’s eyes faded away. It took about a minute for Nico to stop talking; from his gaze, he'd only just realized what was going on. Again, tears fell from Nico’s eyes, but, this time, it was from a mixture of relief and fear. More controlled, more normal, more like himself. Percy wrapped his arms around Nico again. This time, he didn’t fight to pull away.

“Will,” Nico hiccuped. “I want to see Will.”

“Sure, cuz,” Percy promised, and grabbed a drachma from his pocket.

Blaise paused, staring at the coin with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“An enchanted coin,” Percy explained, thinking on his feet. “It can send messages. Watch.” There was a rainbow coming in from the window.

_That’s convenient. Iris must be on my side today._

He threw the coin, thinking the incantation as hard as he could.

_Please work. Please, please, work._

Mist started to form, creating a scene in front of them. It looked like late morning. The entire Apollo cabin, enjoying one of their last days of summer, played volleyball in the sand pit. They were just about to start another round. “Will!” Percy called. “Nico needs your help!”

Will turned, staring at Percy, Nico, and Blaise in confusion. He took the scene in, his eyes searching for any clue to what was going on. His other cabin mates looked at the Iris message with a puzzled interest. “Nico?" Will asked. "What do you mean he needs my help? Why? What’s going on?” Anxiety came off his face in waves; Percy could only imagine the hell Will was going through. He was a doctor at heart, and here was one of his closest friends, suffering, thousands of miles away.

“I don’t - Blaise, can you explain what happened? Will’s sort of a doc - um, a healer. He might be able to help.” Percy went back to Nico, who was still shedding silent tears.

Blaise, who was still studying the Iris message curiously, stepped a little more forward. “I was in the courtyard, trying to study, and Nico came running. Malfoy was there, he said something to Nico, then summoned a boggart with his wand.”

“What’s a boggart?" Will asked. "We don’t have those in America.”

“It shows you your worst fear.” At Blaise's words, Percy’s blood began to boil.

“You mean that Malfoy kid attacked Nico?!”

“I think so,” Blaise answered, describing the last hour’s events in as much detail as he could.

As soon as Blaise finished, Will went into doctor mode. He trained his eyes on Nico; the sheer force of his gaze was enough to gain eye contact. “Nico? Can you hear me?” Nico gave a small nod, just enough so Will could make it out. He was no longer crying, but he still didn't look anywhere close to okay. “Did you hear what Blaise said? You don't have to worry. Malfoy was just being an idiot.”

“And Harry.” Nico lowered his gaze, staring down at an indiscernible spot on his lap. “He told me I’d get what’s coming to me, and drew me to that spot. He was in on it.”

“That’s not important,” Will reassured him. “You know none of that was real. You know you didn’t kill anyone, and that you wouldn’t. Right, Nico?” Silence.“Right, Nico?” There was a more force in Will’s voice that time.

“Right,” Nico finally repeated, but Percy wasn’t so sure he meant it. Will stared dubiously at Nico, clearly not believing what he was saying. However, they both knew that was all they were going to get out of Nico for the moment. Nico heaved a ragged breath and wiped the last of the tears from his eyes. “I’m… I’m calm now, Will. The skeletons are gone. You can get back to your game.”

“I don’t want to leave you this distraught,” Will insisted, biting his lower lip in concern.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Will clearly wanted to argue some more, but realized it was futile. He smiled at Nico, told him to get some rest, then waved the image away. A couple of minutes passed in silence, then Madam Pomfrey walked into the infirmary. Her hawk eyes fixed themselves on Nico. Assuming she could help a bit more, Percy told her about the boggart. Thankfully, she didn't ask about the skeletons. Percy didn't know how he'd be able to explain from where those came from without giving away their identities.

"You poor dear! I'll have to talk with Professor Umbridge; she can't just leave boggarts lying around! You two, leave. I must tend to my patient."

“I want Percy to stay," Nico protested. "I want him here.” Even somewhat calm, Nico's voice still carried a broken sadness. It was beyond something Percy had ever heard before.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head vehemently at Nico's words. “This is a recovery room. You need to rest. I cannot allow - ”

“Please, ma’am. Let me stay,” Percy interrupted. “My cousin and I are close; it might help him if I’m here.”

She scoffed. “So you’re a healer now.” She turned to examine her patient, and then nodded with reluctance. “Stay off to the side, and please don’t talk to Nico,” she acquiesced. “He needs to get some sleep.”

“Sure,” Percy agreed. He gave an easy smile, and did as she asked, because even though he was a troublemaker, he knew when it was time to listen to the rules. Besides, that Madam Pomfrey was one heck of a scary lady.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

Harry and Ron entered the courtyard seconds before the skeletons arrived. There, Harry saw Nico di Angelo, curled in fetal position, his eyes focused on a spot on the horizon.

_Come on. Show your true colors, di Angelo!_

He got his wish. The ground began to shake as a large fissure split the ground open. Bony fingers crawled forth from the cracked earth, rising onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Soon, half a dozen skeletons stood, tall and cruel.

Out of nowhere, Chase sprinted into the courtyard. "Get behind me!" she shouted, drawing a sword of bone to fend off the skeletons. Darting forward, she stabbed at one of the skeletons. The point landed in its rib cage, but the sword did nothing but piss the skeleton off. She tried desperately twisting her blade in the skeleton's bones, yet, before she'd so much as made a dent, the skeleton lunged at her with its fingers poised like claws.

She jumped back, prying her sword from the rib cage. Again she swiped, severing hands from its arms. Her next slash produced a crack, and the skeleton's skull hit the grass. In the next second, though, the skeleton's skull and arm reconnected. Now knowing Chase could fight back, the skeleton turned to attack a young Hufflepuff girl. At best, she was in second year.

“Di Immortales!” Chase spat. The words didn't even sound like English...weird.

Harry joined the fight. Drawing his wand, he shouted "Stupefy!" The red light burst from his wand and the sparks shattered over the skeleton, but that just made it angrier. It cornered Harry. He cursed it again, but it didn’t do any good, and it swiped at him, knocking him to the ground.

“Harry!” Ron shouted, raising his wand. “Over here - ach!” Another skeleton started attacking him. Ron tried to curse it too, but his spells worked about as well as Harry’s had.

“It won’t do any good!” Chase yelled to them. “They can’t die!”

“Then how do we stop them?!” Harry yelled back.

“Percy’s working on it!” Chase answered, slicing a skeleton in half. It bought her a few seconds to catch her breath while the skeleton reformed.

“You act like you’ve done this before!” Ron yelled, shooting sparks at his attacker.

“Sort of!” Chase jumped in front of a skeleton cornering Draco Malfoy.

“You've fought them before?!" Ron asked, running to defend the Hufflepuff girl Chase left.  

“Percy has." Chase clenched her teeth in frustration.

“And how did he kill them?” Harry asked.

“He didn’t. Nico - ” Chase stopped short, like the memory was an unpleasant one. Harry followed Chase’s gaze back to Jackson. His fellow Gryffindor supported di Angelo, Blaise Zabini a few paces ahead. Di Angelo kicked and fought, a manic glow in his eyes.

“Look out!” Ron shouted, firing at a skeleton advancing on the distracted Harry. “Hey! Over here!” Ron waved his arms to grab its attention, trying to give Harry enough time to escape. He backed up with the twenty other students, surrounded by the skeletons. Harry’s back hit Hogwarts's wall as bony fingers closed around his neck...

The pressure left Harry’s throat. He gasped for air, vaguely registering a loud shattering sound all around him as the skeletons fell apart and bones clattered to the ground. Chase sighed in relief. “Thank the gods, Percy did it."

The courtyard was silent, except for the sound of heavy breathing. The Hufflepuff girl knelt to the ground, touching one of the bones with her finger gingerly, as though it might be poisoned. “That Nico kid… that was dark magic…” she exhaled, her voice a faint and disbelieving whisper.

Silence. One second. Two. After three seconds, another kid spoke. “Yeah, that was dark magic!” The entire crowd erupted into nervous mumbles, all voicing the same suspicion. Chase alone remained quiet.

Dumbledore and McGonagall came to assess the scene; Harry forced himself not to smile. The moment those two saw what di Angelo had done, he'd be out of Hogwarts for sure.

Chase took no time to fill the professors in on what happened. She also assured them that no one had sustained any major injuries, despite the skeletons’ attack. McGonagall got more concerned the longer she listened, but Dumbledore's thoughts were a mystery. “You’re not going to punish Nico, right?" Chase asked, widening her eyes nervously. "It wasn’t his fault; it was that stupid vision he had...”

Dumbledore's eyes swept the courtyard, taking in the scene. He focused his gaze on each of the students in turn, growing more and more stern with each glance. Harry braced himself for the announcement of di Angelo's expulsion.

“I will not,” Dumbledore replied. “Mr. di Angelo is in no trouble.”

“But that was dark arts!” Malfoy blurted. Harry knew Malfoy didn’t care about it being dark arts, simply that he was sleeping in the same dorm room as someone that dangerous. Someone with a sword on his person. Someone who'd just proved he was capable of murder.

“You merely saw a distraught student,” Dumbledore continued; Harry heard Chase sigh in relief. “He is receiving care. Now, back to your studies!” He clapped his hands together and the crowd began to disperse. McGonagall looked uncomfortable with Dumbledore’s decision, but remained silent nonetheless. Harry followed them after they left the courtyard. He knew McGonagall; she wouldn't, couldn’t stay quiet for long.

The moment the professors were out of earshot of the students, McGonagall spoke. “Albus, I don’t understand why Mr. di Angelo isn’t facing any consequences. He used the dark arts, distraught or not.”

“Minerva, how long have we been colleagues?” Dumbledore asked.

“Decades.”

“Then I ask that you trust my judgment. Mr. di Angelo will face no punishment. What you saw was an… unfortunate display of his powers. He will not harm any student at Hogwarts, and he will not be a danger to the school. Quite the opposite, I think.”

“I… if you’re sure.”

They turned the corner together, forcing Harry to sprint into a different corridor to avoid their sight. Once he was alone, he decided to check on di Angelo in the hospital wing.

The Slytherin was laying in one of the beds, a sleeping potion on the table beside it. Jackson was sitting next to his cousin, trying to get him to drink the potion, but it looked like di Angelo was too afraid.

“I can’t,” di Angelo insisted. “After everything that just happened -  ”

“I’m right here if you have nightmares,” Jackson reassured him. “Both Will and Madam Pomfrey said you needed sleep. When are you going to start listening to your doctors, Nico?”

“I saw…” di Angelo’s voice was weak, like he was on the brink of tears. “Bianca... my dad... he…” di Angelo took a shaky breath and looked up at Jackson with fear in his eyes. “He tried to kill me.”

“That was just an illusion,” Jackson promised him with certainty. “None of it was real.”

“It’s real for me. Dad, he - he doesn’t care about me.”

“That’s not true. He hid you in the Lotus for years, Nico. For your protection.”

_The Lotus? Sounds like some store in Hogsmeade or something._

“He did it to save his own skin.” Di Angelo refused to meet his cousin's gaze.

“That’s not true!”

“Why would you even defend him, Jackson? He tried to kill you! He kidnapped your mom! He’s…” Nico racked his brain for the worst insult he could come up with. “He’s like me.”

Jackson gave di Angelo a hard look. “You’re not evil, Nico, not at all. And neither is your father, he’s just a bit… twisted, that’s all. But that’s not the worst thing an immortal can be."

_Immortal?_

Di Angelo didn't respond, staring off into the distance. Jackson's fingers brushed his shoulder, and di Angelo swatted them away.

"Nico, your dad's fairer than most. He returned my mom after my first quest, once he knew I was innocent. He was the only one not to break the oath, either. And how could you say he doesn’t care about you when he gave you this quest? He’s putting an incredible amount of faith in you, allowing you to do this for him!”

Di Angelo still didn't meet his cousin's eyes. “Some quest,” he scoffed.

Harry had heard enough. He ran all the way back to the common room. By that time, it was near dinner, but Harry didn’t feel like eating. Few Gryffindors sat in the common room, so Harry used the time to think about the whole di Angelo mess. Dumbledore was keeping secrets from McGonagall? Di Angelo’s dad had tried to kill Jackson? And what was with the immortal comment?

Ron and Hermione got back to the common room early, looking around for Harry. He waved them over to tell him what he’d overheard. But as his friends approached, his eye caught something flickering in the fireplace. Harry went to inspect it, motioning for Ron and Hermione to follow. Was it a spark or a strange looking log? No, it was -

“Sirius!” Hermione gasped, looking at the fire.

“I was starting to think I’d never find you three alone.” Sirius sounded a little frustrated. “I’ve been checking every hour.”

“You’ve been popping into the fire every hour?” Harry asked, half laughing.

“Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet,” Sirius explained.

“But what if you’d been seen?” Hermione cried.

“Well, I think a girl - first year by the looks of her - might’ve got a glimpse of me earlier but don’t worry, I was gone the moment she looked back at me, and I’ll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something.”

Despite Sirius's assurances, Hermione looked worried. “But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk - ”

“You sound like Molly,” Sirius grumbled. “This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code - and codes are breakable.”

When Sirius mentioned Harry’s letter, Ron and Hermione stared at Harry in shock.

“You didn’t say you’d written to Sirius!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I forgot,” Harry admitted, which was true. His talk with Cho in the Owlery had been more important in Harry’s mind. “Don’t look at me like that, Hermione. There was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?”

“No, it was very good.” Sirius smiled at him before continuing. “Anyway, we’d better be quick, in case we’re disturbed - tell me more about this Nico di Angelo.”

Harry described everything. Their encounter on the train, their fights at Hogwarts, the lares and ghosts and secrets. The more he talked, the more stony Sirius’s face got.

“Harry, are you sure you’re not remembering anything incorrectly?” Sirius asked. Was that... fear in his voice?

“Yes.” Harry thought it best to tell Sirius the truth. Even if it was hard to hear.

“He definitely used the dark arts to summon the shadows? And again with the skeletons today?”

“Yeah. Without a wand.”

“What I want to know is, why didn’t Dumbledore expel him?” Ron put in. “After the way he attacked us, I expected something.”

“Dumbledore must have his reasons,” Hermione interjected. Everyone stared at her in disbelief. “I’m not defending di Angelo! I’m just saying that Dumbledore wouldn’t keep him here if he didn’t have a reason!”

“She's right,” Sirius continued. “Dumbledore’s no idiot. But, it’s best to know who exactly these newcomers are. We need to know if they’re working with Death Eaters, or are Death Eaters themselves. As far as the Order knows, Voldemort doesn’t have contacts in America. But, there's a lot we don't know. He might have gotten Nico di Angelo’s father to work for him, especially if he learned about Lares. I’ll check with the rest of the order. We can send someone to America and find the di Angelo family; it shouldn’t be too hard for us.”

“What can we do to help?” Harry asked.

“Watch him. Track his every move, and keep us updated. But no more vigilante justice.” Sirius directed that last comment to Harry. “As much good as it did, dark forces around innocent wizards isn’t a good thing. And if di Angelo’s as powerful as you say, I don’t want you getting yourself killed.”

“But - ” Sirius’s stern gaze stopped his protests. “All right, fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

**____________________NICO____________________**

Nico laid down on his bed back at Westover Hall, turning a Mythomagic card over and over in his fingers. It was hard to believe that dumb little game had pulled him back into reality, but it was the reason he was still sane.

The door creaked open; he turned to see Teddy walk inside. He’d pushed the door open with his back, so he had to turn to face Nico. In both of his hands were a glass of Dr. Pepper, Nico’s favorite soda. Teddy offered him a cup, and he took it with a tiny grateful smile and drank.

“Thanks.” Nico was still a little stunned how dead his voice sounded.

“No problem,” Teddy replied, taking a swig of soda from his own glass. “I’m sorry about what happened with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. That was horrible.”

“How do you know about the boggart?” The strange word echoed off the walls of the small room.

“I’m with you always, Nico. Even if you refuse to accept my help.”

Nico sat up, and took a sip of soda. “I don’t want that ever to happen to me for real. I don’t want to be a monster. I don’t want to be a killer.”

“You’re not." The way Teddy said that... it almost made Nico believe it.

“No, I am. I just don’t act like it all the time. But it’s all there, in the back of my mind.” Nico looked down, not wanting to meet his friend’s gaze. “I am a killer. I am dangerous. And I don’t know how to keep myself from killing.” He spoke with appalling conviction; Teddy was taken aback by how serious Nico sounded.

“You’re not a killer,” Teddy repeated.

Nico gave Teddy a small smile, the kind only Will and Percy could get out of him. “You keep the nightmares away, which helps. But, I know who I am. Tar - the pit, I mean - showed me that. Today proved it. I almost killed all those innocent mortals.”

“Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are the evil ones!” Teddy sounded so desperate to convince Nico he was wrong, it was almost comforting. If only Nico believed it.

“I’m not saying that’s not true; I’m just saying they’re not the only ones. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that life isn’t just good versus evil. That would be too easy.” Nico sat back on his bed, leaning against the white wall. He drained his glass before he spoke, the bubbles burning his throat. That small feeling comforted him; it reminded him of the past. “This whole thing... if any good has come from it, it’s that it’s given me a wake-up call. Maybe my father's twisted like Percy said, but so am I. The least I can do is make Father proud, and be a hero the best I can.”

“I know.” Teddy gave a small smile. “But you didn’t need a boggart to come to that decision.”

“Actually, I did. Because... what I’m saying is…” Nico took a deep breath. “What I’m saying is I need help. Your help. I need to be stronger. I need to make my father proud. It’s been stupid, refusing you, like when I was in the labyrinth and hated Percy. It’s my fatal flaw; I can’t trust anyone. I hold grudges for no reason.” Nico paused, letting silence hang a little longer. “That took everything from me - my sister, my childhood… I’m not letting it take my last chance at redemption too.”

By the time Nico met his eye, Teddy's smiled had widened so much that Nico thought his face would fall off. He walked to where Nico sat, his semi-full Dr. Pepper forgotten on his dresser. “You're sure?" he asked. "Once we do this, you can't turn your back."

Nico stood to meet Teddy's gaze. He gave a curt nod. “What do I have to do?”

Teddy grabbed Nico's hands, and closed his eyes. He said a few words in Ancient Greek, which Nico translated to: “Goddess of magic, o Hecate, I beg your blessing. Put my soul in this soul, put my mind in this mind. Let our powers combine with the power of your magic, and let Nico di Angelo never be alone again.”

An electric current pulsed in Nico’s hands. It spread first to his arms, then his stomach; then it separated as the energy flowed through his entire body. His mind relaxed and calmed. His body felt stronger. Nico closed his eyes, drinking in the new feeling. He waited for the sensation to fade, but it didn’t. This was the new him. This was the new and improved Nico di Angelo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, do I still have your attention, after all this time? As you can see, my writing style has changed a lot in the past few months, hope it’s not too distracting. I just sort of got better at editing out my million run-on sentences, as well as found a few tools like [Hemingway](http://www.hemingwayapp.com/) and [Grammarly](https://app.grammarly.com), which have been a huge help. Seriously, if you're a writer, check those out. 
> 
> And, of course, I have Giulia, who’s awesome beta number one. And, happily, the return of Sara as awesome beta number two, since she is no longer too busy to help! Sadly, Fairn is definitely unable to continue beta reading the fic, but I think Sara and Giulia have it covered, right?
> 
> Oh, yeah! If I haven’t mentioned it already, I do want to start beta reading, if anyone wants me. Let me know via my email (on my profile) if you’re interested. I’m in more fandoms than I can list, so don’t think you have to have a PJO or HP related fanfic for me to look at it!
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](http://solangelo-is-my-life.tumblr.com)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	9. Nico Gets Annoyed at All His Nicknames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the boggart attack, Annabeth has her first lesson with Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing  
> Word Count: 5064 Words
> 
>  
> 
> Unfortunately, I didn’t edit any more chapters this week. Why? Well, I’m applying to a few pre-college programs for this summer, and for some reason you have to apply to apply. I don’t understand why, but whatever. Anyway, all three approved my request to apply this week, meaning that I have from now until January 10th (thirteen days from the release of this chapter, not counting today ‘cause it’s night time for me) to write eleven essays… eight of which require me to do a decent amount of research. So, I’ve spent every waking moment working on those instead of editing chapters 4 - 7 like I originally planned. I should have those edited chapters up sometime in January, once I can work on them again. Sorry, but life happens.
> 
> Last night, I went back and read every comment I’ve received on this fic, as well as looked through all the bookmarks. I just wanted to say, I never expected to get this much attention when I, a previously unknown in this fandom, started posting. It’s incredible, and I just wanted to stress how grateful I am now that the New Year’s coming up. 
> 
> Along those same lines, I have a mini-announcement. One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to keep a video diary, because I suck at writing diaries but I want some form of reflection in my life. So, I’m starting a YouTube channel, where I’ll post short (one to two minute videos on average) little videos every day. It’s nothing huge or fancy, just me blabbing at my phone camera for a minute or two about stuff I care about, starting January 1st and going (hopefully) until next December 31 - maybe longer if I like it. You don’t have to subscribe, but if that’s something you’d want to check out, [click here to see the channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCU_U6CB-8EiWyoeDvBus0XA).

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

Annabeth went to visit Nico that morning, bringing him breakfast from the Great Hall. When she got to the infirmary, Nico was just waking up. “Hey, stranger, want something to eat?” she asked.

Nico stretched and rolled his eyes. “What’s up with these nicknames? My name is Nico, it’s four letters. Not exactly hard.”

Annabeth laughed. “I felt lonely. Percy gets to call you ‘cuz’-”

“But you’re not my cousin.”

“ - and Will gets to call you ‘Neeks.’”

“Yeah, well, I hate it, so don’t start calling me that either. Is that bacon?” Nico’s eyes fell on the plate. Annabeth put the food on Nico’s bedside table, as he grabbed a piece of bacon. She smiled. He looked so carefree and happy, considering what happened yesterday.

_He’s stronger than most people give him credit for._

Madam Pomfrey came out from her office. She looked around and noticed Annabeth sitting beside her patient. She shook her head, and said, “Nico cannot have visitors, he needs to rest.”

Annabeth sighed and picked up her bag, which she’d thrown on the floor next to her. “Sorry, ma’am, I was just bringing him breakfast.” She turned to Nico and gave a small smile. “I’ll see you later, Nico.”

“You used my name! Congratulations!” The sarcasm in Nico's voice made Annabeth laugh.

Her first class that morning was Divination, one of the few classes she had with Percy. Even though she liked being with her boyfriend, she hated that class. Trelawney was nothing like Rachel, and kept telling her she was going to die. The worst part was, she half-believed it, because, after all, she was a demigod on a quest.

On her way to the North tower, she passed Percy, headed in the opposite direction. It didn't take a genius to understand his intentions. “If you’re going to visit Nico, turn around. Madam Pomfrey said no visitors.”

“I don’t give a damn what Madam Pomegranate says, I want to see him.” Percy was joking, but Annabeth knew he meant what he said. He wasn’t to the point where he'd break into the hospital wing... okay, there was that chance, but it was small. At the very least, he’d be bothering Annabeth about the subject for the rest of the morning. So, she thought it wise to report what she saw. Maybe it would stop his worrying.

“He’s in a good mood, at least. I gave him breakfast and he seemed all right. Just focus on classes, he still won’t be there by dinner."

Percy huffed. "Fine." He fished around in his pocket, like he was looking for Riptide or something. “This came for you,” he said, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “An owl gave it to me, but it has your name on it. Don’t worry, I didn’t read it.”

Annabeth took it from him and opened it, it just had two sentences:

 

 

 

> Come at 8pm. You know the password.  
>  -Headmaster Dumbledore

“It’s my lesson with Dumbledore!” Annabeth whispered. “It’s tonight!”

“You’ll have to tell me about it,” Percy said at normal volume.

“Then let’s get to class, before we’re late,” she said, and he shot her a look.

“Always the wise girl… fine let’s go.” With that, the two walked up the stairs.

The day passed in the blink of an eye. Annabeth, so focused on her classes, couldn’t think about her coming lesson with Dumbledore. When she and Percy ate lunch and dinner, Nico didn’t show. Percy didn't try to hide his disappointment, but at least he wasn't fixated on it. Before she knew it, Annabeth was climbing the steps to Dumbledore’s circular office.

“Good evening, Professor,” she greeted. “Thank you so much for giving me this lesson.”

“Ah, Miss Chase. Sit.” The headmaster nodded to her, so Annabeth took the open seat opposite his desk. She folded her hands on the table and looked at him with her grey, curious eyes. She couldn't help it; Athena's curiosity wired itself into her genes. Battle strategies and high-stakes tactics excited her; there was something to having a battle weeks or even months away lost or won by a single tactical decision. The following lessons would mean the difference between the quest's success or failure. From what she knew about Riddle, she theorized he won his wars with wits, not brute force. While her knowledge of him was precious little, with him, everything came back to tactics. His horcruxes, his calculated killings, they all helped to achieve a single, simple goal. The only way to defeat him was to know him, so Annabeth could figure out where those plans came from. But, fear kept those facts hidden; the only answers remained in the silver-haired man sitting before her. Not for the first time, Annabeth felt awe in how much power simple knowledge had.

Dumbledore allowed Annabeth a few moments with her thoughts. Then, he spoke. “I’ve told you everything I know about Lord Voldemort and your quest.”

“But - ” Annabeth started to say, but Dumbledore quieted her with a wave of his hand.

“From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory, into the thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Miss Chase, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who thought the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron.”

Annabeth ignored the part about the cheese cauldron. “But, you think you’re right?”

“Naturally, I do,” Dumbledore replied. “But I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.”

Again, Annabeth sat in thought. Dumbledore made a fair point; these lessons would be a gamble. If his information was wrong, or if her plans didn't work, the quest would suffer. Nico would fail in his duty to his father, people would die. Was she willing to risk hundreds of people’s lives on a hunch?

At the same time, if she didn’t do this, there would be no contest; she would damn the quest by not knowing her enemy. No, at least if she tried, those people might have a fighting chance. The choice not to act had one outcome: failure. She wasn’t about to give up before she’d even begun.

“Miss Chase?” Dumbledore asked. “Are you ready to begin?”

Annabeth nodded. “Let’s go.”

Dumbledore took a clear bottle from a shelf behind him and pulled the stopper off. Inside was what looked like liquid moonlight, a of sacred liquid made by Artemis. He emptied it into a bowl, a polished silver one with symbols engraved into the sides. Either it was complete gibberish, or a language that Annabeth couldn’t read or recognize. She looked into the blue-tinted mist and saw the face of a man swirling there. “Who’s that?” she asked.

“Bob Ogden,” Dumbledore answered. “A government official who died some time ago. Now put your head in the bowl, Miss Chase. It will allow you to enter the memory.”

Annabeth did so. In an instant she fell through a darkness as thick and black as Tartarus. Flashbacks from her first trip to the pit bombarded her; she opened her mouth to scream...

The next moment came, her eyes blinking in blinding sunlight. Dumbledore stood beside her, on a narrow country road, shrubs and bushes on either side. The cloudless, blue sky allowed rays of yellow sun to touch the grassy foliage around her. In the sparkling light, Annabeth thought she saw a little of Camp Half-Blood in this English valley.

The homeliness she felt ended the moment she noticed the other man. He looked on the older side, maybe in his 40's. He stood about as tall as she, though his lanky limbs made him seem a little taller. But, what attracted Annabeth's attention was his attire. He wore a striped bathing suit, one of those top-and-bottom suits that looked a little like a wet suit. A frock coat ended at his waist, with long tails extending to his ankles. Annabeth couldn't help but laugh at the sight. This man had to be Ogden.

Ogden began to speed-walk down the road, Annabeth matched his pace to follow. “Where are we going?” Annabeth asked Dumbledore, who walked with surprising speed beside her.

In response, Dumbledore pointed ahead to a shack, hidden behind a dark tangle of trees. It resembled a haunted house, the forest of brown leaves blocking out almost all the sunlight. Everything within an acre of the shack looked sick and dying. Annabeth was in shock. How could such a dead-looking place exist half a mile from such a sunny valley?

A man jumped from the thick branches and opened his mouth to speak to Ogden. However, when he did so, nothing came out but hisses. Annabeth widened her eyes in surprise, wondering how that was even possible. It wasn’t a whisper, it was a hiss. And as far as she knew, the human larynx wasn’t capable of making that noise on its own.

Ogden tried to speak to the hissing man, with no luck. Despite Ogden's attempts at conversation, he wouldn't stop the hissing noise. The way Ogden reacted to the hissing, this phenomenon didn't seem unheard of.

Annabeth turned to Dumbledore for answers. “Why is that man hissing?”

Dumbledore kept his eyes glued on the two men. “The man is speaking Parseltongue. This is a magical language, allowing certain wizards to communicate with snakes.”

“But - that’s not possible! Snakes don’t have a language! And why would that man talk in a snake language if he knows Ogden can’t understand him?”

Dumbledore put a finger to his lips, silencing Annabeth, who focused back on the memory. Ogden and the other man were inside the house now, as filthy and disgusting as the its grounds. A layer of dirt settled on every surface, at least an inch thick. A grimy rocking chair in one corner of the room served as some kind of sitting area, though it was the only chair she saw. Two doors, one on either side of the main room, were so covered in grime they looked a dull brown color. A kitchen area, complete with a small, black stove and crumbling clay pots, fell between the doors. The whole shack reminded Annabeth of some kind of cave dwelling. She would know, after all; she'd lived in a few with Luke and Thalia before she’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood.

When she raked her eyes over the kitchen again, Annabeth noticed a young woman. She looked a little older than Annabeth, maybe nineteen or twenty. Her clothes, skin, and hair were as filthy as the room she stood in, so much so she blended in with the wall behind her. Annabeth couldn't blame herself for not noticing the girl before.

“Who is she?” Annabeth asked. She directed her question at Dumbledore, though she didn't bother to turn her head. She didn't expect an answer to her question, but she couldn't help asking it. She _was_ Athena's daughter, after all. She had a natural curiosity, stronger than most.

Annabeth didn't have to wait long for her question's answer. Another new face, this time an older man, entered from one of the inside doors. He gave Ogden a disgusted look before gesturing to the girl. “M’daugher, Merope.” Ogden greeted her, but she didn’t respond. Instead, Merope gave her father a terrified look, then went back to tending to her pot on the stove.

After letting his surprise cross his face for a moment, Ogden turned back to the older man. The ministry official gave himself an extra second to fix his posture, giving him a more authoritarian air, then spoke. “Well, Mr. Gaunt, to get straight to the point, we have reason to believe that your son, Morfin, performed magic in front of a muggle late last night.”

The pot, once clutched in Merope's hand, fell to the ground and shattered. The sudden noise got Ogden and Mr. Gaunt's attention, as well as Annabeth's own. Before Annabeth could process Merope's strong reaction, all hell broke loose.

“Pick it up!” Mr. Gaunt screamed at her. Merope bent down, grabbing at the shards of the shattered clay pot the best she could under the pressure. Her hands shook, her skin paled, her eyes widened with fear... “That’s it, grub on the floor like some filthy Muggle, what’s your wand for, you useless sack of muck?”

“Mr. Gaunt, please!” Ogden shouted.

Merope, who'd finally gathered the shattered pot, blushed from embarrassment and dropped it again. She drew her wand, hands shaking, and whispered a quiet spell. To Annabeth, it looked more like she was praying for a miracle.

She seemed to have a half-blood's luck, because the remains shot across the floor, hit the wall in front of her, and broke even more. Morfin, who'd been watching the scene from the rocking chair, burst into cruel laughter.

"Mend it!" Gaunt screamed. "You pointless lump! Mend it!”

"Why can't she perform magic?!" Annabeth cried. This man was doing exactly what her own father and step-family had done to her years ago. She could sympathize with how Merope was feeling, even if she never acted quite this helpless as a child. She knew different people responded to situations in different ways, but no one deserved to feel like an outsider.

Dumbledore didn’t answer Annabeth, instead pointing back to the horrible scene unfolding before them. Merope ran to the pot, but Ogden finally decided to attempt to calm things. He reached the shards first, mending it with a flick of his wand.

Things continued to progress in that nature. Mr. Gaunt would scream like a lunatic about this and that. Ogden would attempt to summon Morfin to the court hearing. Morfin would watch the two duke it out like it was some sport. And Merope, exhausted from the pot ordeal, looked like she was trying to hide in the small kitchen. Dumbledore offered no wisdom. As Annabeth bombarded him with questions, he would only silence her and nod back to the memory.

The rising temper of Mr. Gaunt only got more and more volatile. His manic screams increased in minutes, as he realized what little effect they had on Ogden. To supplement them, he started waving a ring he wore on his finger in Ogden's face. It was an ugly thing, a gold band with a large, diamond-shaped black stone on top. Annabeth cringed, but Mr. Gaunt seemed impressed enough with it, if his words were any sign.

“See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it’s been in our family, that’s how far back we go, and pure-blood all the way! Know how much I’ve been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?”

“I’ve really no idea,” Ogden answered, “And it’s quite beside the point. Your son has committed - ”

Gaunt let lose a manic roar again, this time lunging for his daughter. His fingers clutched the a heavy, gold locket she wore around her neck. Pulling her by the charm, he marched back to Ogden with an angered passion. Pulled by the chain of a necklace she couldn't remove, Merope struggled and gasped for air. “He’s going to kill her!” Annabeth screamed. She felt an overwhelming urge to save her, but there was nothing she could do. She couldn't touch Merope or any of her captors.

“See this?” Mr. Gaunt screamed at Ogden, waving the locket while Merope gasped for breath.

“I see it, I see it!” Ogden assured him, his eyes glued to Merope.

“Slytherin’s! Salazar Slytherin’s! We’re his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?”

“Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!” Ogden yelled in alarm, but Mr. Gaunt had already let go of the locket. Merope stumbled away from her father, massaging her neck and gasping. Mr. Gaunt’s screams filled the room, but Annabeth was no longer listening. Her gaze held on Merope, watching as she walked back to her stove and resumed her place by the room’s only window. She knew this had all happened years and years ago, but Annabeth wanted to help this girl _so much_. She was helpless, alone, suffering... It reminded Annabeth so much of herself before she’d run away…

Her thoughts stopped at the sound of horses and laughing from the window by Merope. Eyes still on her face, Annabeth could see it had gone completely white. The moment dragged on for years before voices wafted in from outside the window. All Annabeth could register was Merope’s face, like something horrible was about to happen.

“My God, what an eyesore! Couldn’t your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?” It was a woman’s voice, she sounded young, maybe around Merope’s age.

“It’s not ours,” a man, Tom, no doubt, replied. “Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt, and his children. The son’s quite mad, you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village - ”

The girl laughed, the clomping sound of horses grew louder and louder. Morfin stood from his chair, but Mr. Gaunt hissed at him, and he sat back down again. Merope’s face was still in a state of shock, white as a cloud. Annabeth dreaded the moment this quiet spell broke. She didn't know what Mr. Gaunt would do, but she could guess. Between his temper, Merope's obvious fear, and the tension, set heavy in the air, she was sure it would be bad. Really bad.

“Tom,” the girl’s voice rang again, “I might be wrong - but has somebody nailed a snake to the door?”

“Good lord, you’re right!” Tom exclaimed. “That’ll be the son, I told you he’s not right in the head. Don’t look at it Cecilia, darling.”

One second passed. Two. Three. Then, Morfin started to hiss, his cruel gaze focused on Merope. Gaunt then hissed, his voice a whisper, eyes devouring Merope. Annabeth didn't have to know what he was saying. She'd felt this kind of situation often enough. This was the calm before a battle.

Right on cue, Gaunt scream-hissed, his hands closing around his daughter’s neck. Annabeth gasped in horror, reaching out, trying to help, but to no avail. Ogden fought back, throwing Mr. Gaunt across the room with magic. Once Mr. Gaunt fell unconscious, Ogden ran for his life. Morfin rose from his chair, revealed a bloody knife, and took off down the road after him.

“That’ll do, Miss Chase,” Dumbledore said.

Annabeth felt unable to tear herself away from the scene. “But - Merope - and Ogden - and - ”

Dumbledore grabbed Annabeth’s elbow and pulled her away. She fell through blackness again, but, this time, she didn’t feel like screaming. Her concern for Merope weakened her; she couldn’t do anything but wait for the office to come back into view. The second her feet touched solid ground, she whipped her head to focus on Dumbledore's face.

“Merope. What happened to her?”

Dumbledore sat down behind his desk before answering Annabeth's question. “Oh, she survived. Ogden apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage, and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban - a wizarding prison. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months.”

Annabeth was glad to hear they both got jail time, even if it wasn’t for long. She gave herself a moment to calm down, knowing that Merope’s captors had spent some time behind bars. Maybe she wouldn't be too scared to run away like Annabeth had. Maybe she found a new life, a better life, with better friends. With those thoughts, Annabeth regained her calm and began to think straight again. She moved back to the chair behind the desk, as Dumbledore had, then began to rapid-fire the million questions swirling in her brain.

“Why did you show me this memory, Professor? Riddle wasn’t even in it!”

Dumbledore smiled. “He was not, but his parents were.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Parents? But if Mr. Gaunt and Morfin were behind bars - does that mean that Merope was Riddle’s mother?”

“It does indeed. And his father?”

She bit her lip, thinking hard. Then, it clicked. “Tom, the rider from before. They share the same name, was he named after his father? But, why would he leave Cecilia? And for Merope, of all people? I mean, nothing against her, but, didn’t he think she was from a family of lunatics?”

“I think you are forgetting that Merope was a witch. I do not believe that her magical powers appeared to their best advantage when she was being terrorized by her father. Once Marvolo and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first time in her life, then, I am sure, she was able to give full rein to her abilities and to plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years. Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to make Tom Riddle forget his Muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?”

“Honestly? No. She must’ve used a love potion on him. Those exist, right?”

“Yes, they do. I do not think it would have been very difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case, within a few months of the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire’s son ran off with the tramp’s daughter, Merope. But the villagers’ shock was nothing to Marvolo’s. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal ready on his table. Instead, he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done. From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death - or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo, and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage.”

“So, whatever happened to Merope? And Tom?”

“Lord Voldemort grew up in an orphanage.”

It took Annabeth a while to process that. Merope had… died? “But… how? What happened?”

“We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumor flew around the neighborhood that he was talking of being ‘hoodwinked’ and ‘taken in.’ What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying, however, the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he had married her for this reason.”

“But, she did have his baby.”

“But not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant.”

“What?” Annabeth couldn’t think of an instance where she’d leave her child by choice. Not ever. Percy either. If they ever had children together, he'd only leave her if he died on a quest. Even then, he'd be careful not to go on dangerous quests with a child; they both knew what having only one parent felt like, and no half-blood she knew would ever wish that on anyone. “How could he be so cruel?”

“Don’t judge him too harshly, Miss Chase. He was, after all, enchanted into giving her that child in the first place.”

“But… it was still his child…”

“I understand, and I cannot condone his actions. But, think of his frame of mind. He must’ve wanted nothing more than to forget the entire situation altogether. He wouldn't be thinking of his child, only of himself.”

Annabeth wanted to protest, but she bit back the words. What had happened had happened, and no amount of insults would change that. “The enchantment lifted? How?”

“Again, this is guesswork, but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means. I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that he would by now have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby’s sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what became of his son.”

One thing was clear: Annabeth did not like Tom Riddle Senior. But it was getting late, and she had to get something to report to Percy and Nico. “The ring and the locket... those are horcruxes, aren’t they?”

A twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes that told her she was right.

“I suspect so. But, as we discussed before, I could be quite wrong. Now, it’s getting late and you have classes tomorrow. I’ll send you another owl when I find a time for our next lesson. That will be all.”

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

Harry was walking back from the library when he heard the voices. With a quick look around, he realized they were coming from outside Dumbledore's office. Wondering who they could be, he stopped to listen.

“She said she’d be out by now.”

It sounded like Percy Jackson's voice. Wanting to hear more, Harry crept behind the wall and pressed his ear near the doorway. However, he was careful to avoid all forms of shadow; something was telling him if he made one, or walked into one, he’d be spotted. One thing Harry had learned from his fight with di Angelo was that the kid had some kind of power over shadows. It explained how he was always able to, for lack of a better word, sense when Harry was around. And even though Harry hadn't heard di Angelo's voice, Jackson was there. It would be stupid for Harry not to assume di Angelo was close behind his cousin.

Harry peered into the doorway. Di Angelo was there after all, standing beside Jackson. They lounged against the gargoyles, like they had been there a while.

 _What are they waiting for?_  

With di Angelo involved, it had to be something bad. Besides, Sirius had said to keep an eye on the Slytherin, and both he and his cousin looked suspicious. So, Harry stayed in his dark corner and listened.

After fifteen minutes, di Angelo pulled out the iPod he'd had on the train and started listening to it. Jackson played with a pen in his pocket. Why he had a pen in Hogwarts, Harry didn't know. Standing alone in a hallway and making no noise was boring work, but Harry forced himself not to move. He had to know what was going on.

Finally, after at least an hour, Annabeth Chase walked out of the office. At her arrival, Jackson and di Angelo stood to greet her.

“Have you guys been waiting here since dinner?” Chase asked, disbelief in her voice.

“Yeah,” di Angelo answered. “Percy told me about the lessons. Did you get Dumbledore to talk?” Harry didn’t like the way di Angelo said that. It was like the headmaster was some kind of criminal they were interrogating.

Chase smiled, turning to Jackson. “Don’t you ever to doubt my plans again. Yes, I got him to talk. I think I know where we need to go next.”

Jackson’s eyes grew wide. “You… you do? Wow, Annabeth, you work fast.”

Chase smiled at Jackson. “Like I said, don’t you ever doubt me.”

Di Angelo cleared his throat. He looked annoyed with the flirting, like he had to put up with it a lot. Chase and Jackson both gave him an apologetic look.

“Where are we going next?” di Angelo demanded.

“There’s a ring and a locket that might be what we’re looking for. The last known location is a shack near Little Hangleton. They were both owned by Marvolo Gaunt, Riddle’s grandfather. If we were to find them... Nico, you could tell us if they’re horcruxes.”

Shock and worry hit Harry like a ton of bricks. He didn’t know what horcruxes were, but they didn't sound so good. But Voldemort's involvement, plus a Death Eater’s son wanting them? That was enough for Harry to guess what they were. Some kind of weapon most likely, one to make Voldemort stronger. Harry thought of Sirius' slip that summer; Voldemort was looking for a special weapon. Could these 'horcruxes' be it?

Di Angelo's voice broke Harry's train of thought. “If that's a possibility, we should seek them out as soon as possible. We could leave tonight.”

Chase stopped di Angelo with a shake of her head. “I want all the facts first. Let’s see if we can find out what the other horcruxes are first. It makes more sense to leave and get them all at the same time. That way, we won't have to waste time coming back to Hogwarts. Have you had any luck finding the one here, Nico?”

 _Another reason di Angelo’s here_ ; _one of the weapons is in the castle!_

“No, not yet. I can’t figure it out. There has to be a door somewhere, but I can’t find any.” Di Angelo let frustration into his words. That was good news to Harry. It meant that Voldemort hadn’t succeeded yet. The three argued about what to do, but Harry didn’t listen. He’d heard enough. With them distracted, he bolted from his hiding place, and didn't stop running until he was inside of the Gryffindor common room.

If Harry knew anything, it was this: the Americans were dangerous, and it would be up to him to stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stressing this - a lot of this chapter came from J.K. Rowling’s “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince”. Certain events and dialogue is NOT mine, though I used it in my story to add to the plot later down the road. 
> 
> There will be another two chapters like this, though, like this one, it won’t be a complete rehashing of HBP, because Annabeth will make a few observations that Harry missed. After all, compare the two. Annabeth’s a lot more observant than Harry. I needed Annabeth to take over Harry’s lessons in this fic so that she could do what she said before, know her enemy and come up with a plan. At first, I thought I’d just mention it, but I found a lot of value in seeing how a different character would react to the same scenes as Harry, and seeing how Annabeth came up with the plans the demigods will later execute. 
> 
> The other two chapters like this aren’t in a row, so if you don’t like this kind of setup, you’ll still get the normal chapters in the coming weeks. I did that on purpose, I know not everyone will find value in these chapters, but I had fun writing them, and I know my betas enjoyed reading them. So, I hope the vast majority of you don’t mind the concept, at least.
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](http://solangelo-is-my-life.tumblr.com)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	10. Will Becomes Obsessed with Angry Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico navigates through his first day of school after the boggart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing  
> Word Count: 3781 Words
> 
>  
> 
> Hey guys! Happy 2016! And guess what? Tomorrow’s my 17th birthday! Yay for growing up… it’s the surrealist thing I’ve ever done.
> 
> A couple of announcements:  
> First off, [my YouTube channel](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCU_U6CB-8EiWyoeDvBus0XA) is now up and running, with three videos for three days of 2016 so far. If you want to hear me (and sometimes friends!) talk about what’s going on in our brains - what we think about certain philosophies, about art, writing and theater, and all that good stuff, check that out. Each video is no longer than four minutes, and you don’t have to watch all the existing videos (unless you want to) to understand what we’re saying. Plus, if you watch it on a computer, you get to see snarky me make fun of myself via annotation commentary.  
> Second, I also have a [FaceBook page](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/) now! It’s something my family’s been telling me to do for a while, so everyone has a central place to find all of my writing. There, I post when I update anything I’m working on, such as this (or any other) fanfiction, my YouTube channel, and the actual musicals I’m writing (since I’m actually a playwright - like, that’s going to be my college major/job in the future). Everything up there will have a preview of the work, and, if you like what you see, a link to see the entire thing. Everything’s free up there, I won’t post any work that I’m not willing to share with everyone free of charge. That’s also where I’ll talk about updates on my projects, like stuff I’m planning to start, if I need to hire someone to help me with a project, stuff like that. Basically, news about my career (or what I hope will become my career). Plus, I’ve got some info about myself up there, and my public email address so you can message me if you like (that’s also on my AO3 profile, but seriously, who looks at those?). So, if you have a FaceBook, you can check that out too. There’s not much there yet, since I started it yesterday, but I’ll be posting there pretty regularly in the coming weeks.
> 
> Ok, now that I’m done tooting my own horn, let’s get to the story! I promise, I won’t mention YouTube or FaceBook again on this - and I actually mean it this time.
> 
> Also, our resident artist, the wonderful Viviana di Chiara (link in the credits) did an amazing comic of this chapter's opening scene. It's in the end notes, so I don't give anything away. :)
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

Nico didn’t know how he got Will on a, for lack of a better word, singing rant. The Iris Message had started as usual, each boy catching the other up on their previous days and whatnot, but, somehow, between the thinly veiled flirting, Will decided to start scream-singing. Nico should've felt annoyed, after all, for a son of Apollo, Will couldn’t sing to save his life. That awful screeching, plus the fact that Will happened to be on a Les Mis kick, should've driven him up the wall.

So, why on Earth was Nico laughing so hard?

“DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING”

“Will, shut up!”

“SINGING THE SONG OF ANGRY MEN”

“You’re going to wake up the entire Slytherin house!”

“IT IS THE MUSIC OF THE PEOPLE WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGAIN”

“It’s too early for this now!”

“WHEN THE BEATING OF YOUR HEART”

“You’re not the son of the theater god, so shut up!”

“ECHOES THE BEATING OF THE DRUMS”

“How do you even know all these words?!”

“THERE IS A LIFE ABOUT TO START WHEN TOMORROW - ”

Will's voice cut off without warning. It took Nico a few seconds to even register the lack of song; he was panting so hard. Before he even had a chance to stop heaving from laughter, Nico felt a finger tapping on his shoulder. Heart pounding, he turned. Blaise stood behind him, expression complete with raised eyebrows, and a sarcastic smirk.

Desperate to save face, Nico turned back to Will. Despite the fact that getting caught was one hundred percent his fault, Will did nothing. Well, nothing productive. He gave one of his adorkable, awkward smiles, though somehow he was able to throw in a teasing glint in his eye. Then, he gave Nico two thumbs up, complete with tongue click, and waved the Iris Message away.

"Will!" Nico's voice didn't come off quite as exasperated as he'd have liked. Not that it mattered anyway; Will couldn't hear him anymore.

“Healer checking in on how you’re doing?” Blaise asked. The sheer amount of sass in his voice could give Nico a run for his money. The wheels in his head sprung into overdrive, attempting to salvage the situation somehow. There was no way Blaise wouldn't be able to put together Nico's feelings, at least, not now. He'd now seen the way Nico acted around Will twice... in the same week. Blaise wasn't an idiot; he could put two and two together.

"I... um..." Nico’s mind screeched to a halt as he searched for something, anything to say. "I can explain?"

"No need." The smirk on Blaise's face got a little more pronounced. "At least, now I understand why you haven't been checking me out."

Nico scoffed, throwing in a little shade. He was good at that. "You're not my type, Zabini."

"You don't have to fancy me to know I'm a looker. You just have to have eyes. Eyes that aren't already staring at that blond surfer boy, anyway."

Nico rolled his eyes good-naturedly. There was still a bit of awkward energy in the air, but it was fading fast. He felt grateful to Blaise, for turning the uncomfortable moment into a more teasing one. And, now that his head was out of the clouds, he knew just what to say to shut his friend up.

"You use that line on Hestia lately? Maybe if she realized you were such a catch, you could stop mooning over her when you think no one's looking. Who knows? You might, I don't know, be able to, like, take her out."

The look on Blaise's face was priceless. “I told you that in confidence!” he cried, mortified. It took a total of three seconds for him to realize how ridiculous he sounded, and start cracking up alongside Nico. Once they got themselves under control, Blaise's expression grew a bit more genuine. Brotherly, even. “I’ve never seen you like this," he admitted, his voice softer now. "You look… happy.”

“That’s ‘cause I am,” Nico replied, in spite of himself. He even allowed himself a small smile. "You get ready for breakfast, Blaise. I'll meet you in the common room with Hestia in ten?"

"Sure." Blaise started to walk away, then stopped, glancing back at Nico. "Am I telling her about this?"

"If you want your head to end up decorating my bed post."

Blaise put on a face of mock contemplation. "Noted." His footsteps echoed around the bathroom as he exited, leaving a gaping silence behind. Now completely alone, Nico gave himself some time to think.

What had just happened? Never, ever, had Nico so easily spouted secrets to anyone. He prided himself with his ability to conceal, to keep his cards close to his chest and his poker face intact. Even with people like Percy, Jason, or Hazel, he didn't tend to volunteer information; yet, there it was. A friend Blaise may be, but they'd only known each other a week, tops. Whether he, Blaise, and Hestia were on the fast track to friendship or not, Nico was a private person; he didn't just spew his life story to help save an awkward situation... but, that's exactly what he'd just done.

He was far from being ready to make his relationship with Will public. And yet, it felt nice for someone else to know, besides the boy in question, of course. With Will, Nico constantly second-guessed himself. He replayed every moment over in his head, agonized over the littlest things... but, that was how it should be. It felt nice to obsess a little, knowing Will did the same over him. It made him feel loved, cared for, special, even. He hadn't felt like that in a long time, not since Westover Hall. Not since Bianca.

Still, it felt liberating to tell someone something. It was hardly one of Nico's darker secrets, but even so, now he had a confidant, someone to bounce ideas off of, to pull his head out of his ass when he got too obsessive about Will. If things went wrong, he'd have someone to talk to, someone who might understand. The mere fact that Blaise didn't know Will, or Nico's life as a half-blood, made him a perfect candidate. Without all that history and baggage, Nico didn't have to worry about judgment or pity.

That was the main reason he wanted to keep his new relationship off the radar. Ever since he'd come out, everyone had gone overboard with accepting him. And, yeah, a party waiting for him outside the closet was much better than the alternative. He loved that his friends and half-sister supported him as much as they did. But, Nico wasn't a party person. He liked the acceptance, but the constant confetti in his hair and slaps on the back tired him out. He didn't need Percy or Jason going overboard with his new boyfriend, nor scare Will off, nor get invested in something that might not last. He wouldn't keep himself in an unhappy relationship for any reason; even for the sake of his friends. The last thing he wanted was them glorifying this thing to the point where the illusion became upkeep. Until Nico was certain this thing - whatever it was - was worth it, he needed to keep his friends' noses out of it.

Nico shook those thoughts from his brain and headed down to the common room. As promised, Blaise didn't mention Will whatsoever, chatting about an upcoming Transfiguration test instead. The debate about whether the theory behind the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell would show up on the multiple choice kept them talking right until Hestia's owl dropped off the latest issue of "The Daily Prophet". Though Nico didn't glance at the headline, from his friends' faces it seemed like a big deal. Finally, Nico squinted at the tiny letters, making out the bold text.

 

 

 

 

> **MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATION REFORM** **  
> ** **DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”**
> 
> In a surprise move last night, the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
> 
> “The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,” said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley.”He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.”
> 
> This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th, Educational Decree 22 was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.
> 
> “That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,” said Weasley last night. “Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts.”
> 
> It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree 23, which creates the new position of ‘Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’
> 
> “This is an exciting new phase in the Minister’s plan to get to grips with what some are calling the ‘falling standards’ at Hogwarts,” said Weasley. “The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.”
> 
> The Ministry’s new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts.
> 
> “I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,” said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. “Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore’s eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.”
> 
> Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody.
> 
> Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts. “I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,” said a Ministry insider last night.
> 
> Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. “Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge’s office,” said Madam Marchbanks. “This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.” (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks’ alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17).

It took him three times as long as Blaise or Hestia, but Nico got through the entire article. “What a load of bullshit,” he said, throwing down the newspaper. “Immediate success? We’ve been going to her class for a week and learned nothing. Next that ‘Percy Weasley’ guy’s gonna say that - ”

Out of nowhere, Hestia started laughing obnoxiously loud. “So funny, Nico!” Her voice took on a fake kind of cheer he'd never heard from her before. Blaise, too, joined in the charade, with a plastic smile glued to him face.

“What are you guys - ” Nico stopped short when his eyes fell on Umbridge, walking by with a smug look on her face. “Oh! Yeah, thanks, I know I’m hilarious.” He thought his voice sounded pretty fake, but Umbridge didn't seem to notice.

The moment Umbridge turned her back on them, the charade ended. “Come on,” Blaise said. “Let’s get to Charms before that toad comes back. If she’s inspecting Flitwick, we shouldn’t be late, anyway.”

Thank the gods, Umbridge wasn't inspecting. When Nico and his friends arrived, they only saw Flitwick in his tiny, tiny, magical glory. The entire morning was Umbridge free, since they dropped her class on Mondays. By the afternoon, Nico was starting to hope he wouldn’t see her the entire day. His luck, as usual, didn’t hold out; when he arrived at Care of Magical Creatures, there was Umbridge, with a pink clipboard and quill.

_Great,_ _now I get to deal with Malfoy, Harry, his friends, and Umbridge all at the same time! Whoop-de-fucking-do._

To make matters worse, it was the first time Nico had seen Harry since the boggart attack. Nico’s hand went to his sword on instinct, his blood boiled with rage, and his breath grew ragged. He would've attacked the punk then and there, but Hestia put a hand on his forearm, holding him back.

“Don’t. With Umbridge here, you’ll get detention, and you don’t want to be on her radar like Potter is.”

“I don’t care about detention,” Nico spat through gritted teeth. “I want to beat him to a pulp for doing that to me.”

“Hestia’s right,” Blaise chimed in. “I don’t know what Umbridge does in detention, but, from what I’ve heard, it’s not good. Just stay calm, Nico.”

“He attacks me and puts me in the infirmary, and I have to ‘stay calm’?! How is that fair?!” Nico felt likes Ares himself was influencing his actions. He'd never felt such a tidal wave of rage against any mortal before.

“I don’t think ‘fair’ comes into it.” Hestia eyed his sword-arm, her voice laced with salt.

“Fine,” Nico conceited, pulling his arm away from Hestia’s grasp. “But, if he so much as looks at me - ”

“I’ll pummel him for you,” Hestia promised. “Now come on. And play nice.”

As they walked towards the edge of the forest, Nico got within earshot of Umbridge. “You do not usually take this class, is that correct?” Nico's eye caught Harry’s again; only Hestia's steel gaze held him back from a curse attempt.

“Quite correct,” Professor Grubbly-Plank replied. She seemed nervous, with her hands behind her back and her constant bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid.”

Nico noticed Malfoy whispering with his friends, but they were out of earshot. “Stop staring,” Hestia whispered. “You look like you’re about to kill Malfoy.”

“I am about to kill Malfoy,” Nico retorted.

“Geez, you guys are arguing like an old married couple,” Blaise smirked. “Take it outside, will you?” Hestia and Nico both gave him a look, which wiped the smug smile off his face.

“Hmm,” Umbridge hummed. “I wonder - the headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter - can you tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid’s very extended leave of absence?”

From the corner of his eye, Nico saw Malfoy's head shoot up.

“ ‘Fraid I can’t,” Professor Grubbly-Plank replied. “Don’t know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks teaching work, accepted - that’s as much as I know. Well... shall I get started then?”

“Yes, please do,” Umbridge said, writing some more. She started to wander among the students, asking them about magical creatures. To Harry’s apparent happiness, and Malfoy’s bitter disappointment, everyone seemed to know the answers. Nico didn’t know how to react; he’d never met Hagrid, after all.

After talking to a Gryffindor boy for a while, Umbridge returned to Professor Grubbly-Plank’s side. “Overall,” she said, “How do you, as a temporary member of staff - an objective outsider, I suppose you might say - how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?”

“Oh, yes, Dumbledore’s excellent.” Professor Grubbly-Plank sounded completely sincere. “No, I’m very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed.”

Crestfallen, Umbridge made a tiny note on her clipboard. “And, what are you planning to cover with this class this year - assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?”

“Oh, I’ll take them through the creatures that most often come up in the O.W.L.. Not much left to do - they’ve studied unicorns and nifflers, I thought we’d cover porlocks and kneazles, make sure they can recognize crups and knarls, you know... ”

“Well, you seem to know what you’re doing, at any rate.” Umbridge checked off on her clipboard, making a show of it with a swooping motion. Then, she turned to Malfoy and his goons. “Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?”

Crabbe - or Goyle, Nico couldn't tell the difference - burst into a huge, stupid grin. Malfoy stepped forward, with fake, sympathy-baiting apprehension etched into his face. “That was me,” he said, in a small voice that everybody (but Umbridge) could easily tell was as faked as his facial expression. “I was slashed by a hippogriff.”

“A hippogriff?” Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard with fervor. Nico didn't know why she'd be happy to fire a teacher, but he wouldn't put that past her character. Still, he couldn't help but think about what Blaise and Hestia had said when they first met. Hagrid - at least, according to his friends - might be dangerous and irresponsible, giving his students potentially deadly monsters to study. As much as he hated Umbridge, if Professor Hagrid was that careless, she had a point to want to fire him.

Harry butted into the conversation, snapping Nico from his thoughts. “Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do!” Ron and Hermione groaned audibly as Umbridge's head turned in Harry’s direction.

“Another night’s detention, I think,” she said cheerfully. Nico couldn’t help but break into a small smile. “Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I think that’s all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days.”

“Jolly good,” she replied, and class ended.

Nico, Blaise, and Hestia stayed outside a little longer, then headed in the castle for dinner. On their walk back, Nico's mind drifted to yesterday's conversation outside Dumbledore's office. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Annabeth was, as usual, right. They had to find the wall horcrux - and get out of Hogwarts - while Umbridge had less power. There was no chance of more than one horcrux in the castle, which meant he had little reason to stick around. As much as he liked his newfound friends, the quest, his father's will… they came first. He had to get a jump on Riddle before all Hades broke loose.

So, after they got to the Great Hall, Nico ditched his friends for the frustrating hallway of frustration. When he got to the familiar space, he debated what to try. Having already used force, prayer to his father, and simple magic like the Mist, he was out of ideas. So, he tried plan twenty-five - pure stubborn willpower.

_What's your secret?!_

If Nico wasn't afraid of being overheard, he would've actually yelled at the wall. That was why the fact that he got a response freaked him out a little.

"It’s in the place where everything is hidden."

It took Nico a second to place the voice.

_Teddy? I’m not asleep; how are you talking to me when I’m awake?_

"It’s part of the help I can give. Now, we can talk during the day. I’m a part of you now, always."

_Oh. So, what do you mean, the place where everything is hidden?_

"Go to the library. Research it. I don’t know all the facts, or where to find the room, just that that’s where the horcrux is. You’ll have to figure out the rest on your own."

_Thanks for the huge help._

Despite the sarcasm, Teddy didn’t respond. Nico raced to the library, which he’d never been inside before. It resembled a maze, with hundreds towering bookshelves, and thousands of thick, multi-colored volumes in each row. Oil lamps gave the entire room an orangey yellow glow, like a dungeon or medieval castle. Even with all the books, Nico had to admit the atmosphere was pretty cool.

It took him a second to locate the librarian, a thin woman who looked a little like a harpy. At least, she had the large nose and sunken cheeks to fit the part. “I need to find a book about the castle,” Nico told her. She turned, walked to a distant bookshelf, and pulled out a thick, dusty volume. It took Nico a few moments to decipher the spine. "‘Hogwarts: a History'. Thanks!” His last exclamation earned him a shush from the librarian.

After finding an empty armchair in the corner, Nico sat and opened the book. Then, he gave up trying to read, seeing how small the font was. His brain was still exhausted from the short newspaper article that morning.

_Dyslexia. The downfall of Greek demigods since the Peloponnesian War._

"I’ll read it to you," Teddy offered. "Open the book, and look for a chapter on secret rooms. I’ll tell you what it says."

Nico obeyed. Soon, he learned all about multiple of secret areas in the castle, like the Chamber of Secrets and the Room of Rewards. But, no room where everything was hidden came up. By the time the library closed, Nico and Teddy had found nothing.

_I’m sorry, Teddy._

"It’s ok; we’ll figure it out soon. Now, get some sleep. I want to see you in person tonight; we’ve got a lot of training to get through if I’m going to help you master your powers."

_Training?_

"You didn’t think I’d just leave you be, did you?" Nico picked up on Teddy's teasing tone, even if it was just a disembodied voice. "The only way to get you powerful enough to achieve what you want is to practice. And I know a lot about power, being a follower of Hecate."

_But, I’m not a child of Hecate! I can’t do magic like you can, beyond basic stuff like the Mist. Hazel's the one with Hecate's blessing, not me!_

"You can do your own brand of magic, what Harry Potter and the Wizarding World call 'Dark Arts'. I can hone your skills with the shadows and use it to your advantage. You just have to trust me."

_You know I do._

By this time, Nico had reached the Slytherin common room. Though a few people were milling about, he didn't see anyone he recognized.

"Then I’ll see you in a few hours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS - my personal credit’s going to my FaceBook page now, not my Tumblr. If you want to find me on Tumblr, a link to that (and all my other social media) is on my AO3 profile page.
> 
> Also, Viviana's picture, as promised! She does commissions, if you ever need anything done :) Here's [a link to it on her Tumblr](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com/post/141502833839/a-scene-form-the-fan-fiction-the-coming-of-nico/) if you'd like to reblog it!  
> 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
>  Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
>  Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia  
>  Other: [Viviana di Chiara - Artist](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	11. Cho Chang Isn't a Morning Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth has her second lesson with Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 4440 Words
> 
>  
> 
> Ok, ok, I actually have to toot my own horn once more. But, it's for charity this time!
> 
> For those of you who don't know, I wrote a musical, called "Living the American Dream". I took a hiatus this summer to work on it, because it was going up in NYC.
> 
> Well, that fell through. The sponsor pulled out at the last minute, so we lost about $50,000.
> 
> But, I still have been working on this show for 5 years (since I was 12), so I want to see it on a stage. The theater said that, if we can do the rewrites and demo CDs and things like that ourselves, it might still be able to go into production. Even if it didn't, with all those materials, we'd likely be able to find another theater.
> 
> So, now my team and I are trying to [raise $12,000 on Go Fund Me to finance the rewriting of our show](https://www.gofundme.com/freedomfighterdvcc). There's amazing perks, including one that allows you to preview each chapter from this fanfic the day before it comes out from now until the end of time (Well, until I post the final chapter in July). 
> 
> And how does charity come in? My friend, Zoë, is part of a local CT charity called the "Domestic Violence Crisis Center", or the DVCC. They're overwhelmingly underfunded, she's lucky if her chapter gets $400 a year. So, once I hit $12,000, 100% of the money raised after that goes directly to her. Then, on June 20th when the rewrite should be complete, any excess money also goes there. And, should the show reach production, I'll do everything in my power to give the DVCC a large percent of the profits, if not 100%.
> 
> [So, donate, or at least spam this link everywhere you can](https://www.gofundme.com/freedomfighterdvcc)! Help my dream come true, get LTAD (actually, it's called Freedom Fighter now) off the ground, and help people! There's a link to the DVCC's site under the Go Fund Me, as well as a synopsis of the show, sneak preview of a scene and the character designs, and more!
> 
> As of now, it's been up for about 19 hours, and we have exactly $0.00, so literally any help would be appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

  

When Annabeth woke up Tuesday morning, she found a note sitting on her nightstand. 

> Come at 8 PM.  

It had to be Dumbledore. Annabeth hid the note under her pillow while she dressed; then, after making sure her sword wasn't bulging, slipped the parchment into her pocket.

As usual, Cho was still fast asleep, despite breakfast starting in less than a half-hour. No one else was in the dorm, meaning Marietta and the others were already at breakfast. After getting her groaning friend out of bed, Annabeth decided to wait for Cho in the common room. That way, she wouldn’t have to hear her complain about the evils of the dawn.

A few students read, chatted, or studied by the tower's windows. Their quiet murmurs, plus the lazy, morning sun, gave the Ravenclaw common room a peaceful, cozy glow. It was the perfect atmosphere for Annabeth’s racing thoughts.

Her mind drifted back to the Gaunts, the locket, and the ring. That was normal; ever since she'd seen that memory she hadn't been able to stop analyzing it. The two possible horcruxes excited her; the quest was going somewhere, and it was her doing. She spent most of her time outside class thinking up where the locket and ring were, and how to get there. The possible curses Riddle cooked up, other factors that might come into play... this was where she excelled.

She took out the letter again and read the three words once more, with fervor. Despite her dyslexia, she could read that much pretty well. She also noticed the hidden message in the text, _come at 8 PM, and don’t let Umbridge know where you're going._ With the appointment of a ‘High Inquisitor’, Annabeth had feared her lessons with Dumbledore might stop, but the letter proved her wrong.

Finally, Cho emerged from the dorms, yawning. They didn't have much of a conversation on their way to breakfast, Cho being half asleep and all. Once they reached the Great Hall, Annabeth scanned the room for her friends. “I need to find Percy and Nico; I’ll be right back.”

Cho gave her a tired, annoyed look. “You dragged me out of bed to just leave me? What kind of sense does that make?” Annabeth couldn't help but laugh; Cho looked a little like a zombie. She was definitely not a morning person.

“I see Marietta over there. I'll be right back, I promise.” Again, she scanned the Gryffindor table, but saw no sign of Percy. She did, however, notice Harry Potter glaring at the Slytherins. Following his gaze, she located Percy with Nico, side by side at the table. The two were talking and messing around like brothers, or, in this case, cousins.

_Thank the gods for predictability._

Annabeth walked over, giving them an incredulous look when she realized what they were doing. “You guys finished throwing waffles at each other?”

“Way to break up the fun,” Percy pouted, but Annabeth didn’t take the bait. She pulled the note from her pocket instead, showing it to them. Percy pulled himself together pretty quickly. “Is that another lesson?”

“Shh!” Nico whispered. His eyes darted to Umbridge, sitting a little too close for comfort at the staff’s table.

“Sorry!” Percy whispered back. “So, eight?”

“Yeah, if you guys want to stalk me again,” Annabeth confirmed. “Nico, scoot over, so I can sit.” She sat down on the bench, sandwiched her body between them, then produced a piece of waffle from Percy’s hair. “Boys are disgusting.”

“Part of our charm,” Nico said, a sarcastic smile on his face.

“You’d know,” Percy teased. They all laughed, even though Nico didn’t look like he found it all that funny. Not in an ‘I’m offended, stop,’ kind of way, but in a ‘that reminds me of something I’m hiding’ kind of way. Percy didn’t seem to notice, but Annabeth tended to pick up on that kind of thing a little bit more. Not the same way Piper did, but she had more street smarts than the Seaweed Brain. She didn’t say anything about Nico’s behavior, though. He tended to keep his cards close to his chest, and Annabeth saw nothing wrong with that. If whatever it was became important, he'd tell them in a second. If not, well, he had a right to privacy.

The day passed in a blur; one minute she sat in Arithmancy with Percy, the next she found herself seated beside Cho at dinner. In the blink of an eye, she stood at the gargoyle, a nearby clock signaling it was a seven minutes to eight. According to Nico, Umbridge was currently giving detention to Harry Potter. That calmed Annabeth's nerves; she had little chance of getting caught by a proctoring teacher.

With mountains of homework each, neither Percy nor Nico were able to wait for her like last time. Annabeth was glad that was the case; in fact, she thought it was best. It would be weird for someone to see them hanging outside the headmaster's office for so long, and would look suspicious to passing teachers or students. If rumors circled back to Umbridge, the lessons would become too dangerous to continue. They couldn’t get caught by the Ministry, who were doing everything in their power to convince Britain that Riddle was dead. It would just add more knots to an already tangled rope.

At five minutes to eight, Annabeth opened the door with the magic password. The noise of the moving staircase made Dumbledore look up from his desk work, so he was able to meet her eye by the time she appeared in the stone archway.

“Ah, Miss Chase.” Dumbledore motioned for her to sit. “Come in, come in.” She sat down, her reserve from the previous lesson gone. Dumbledore began at once. “You will remember, I am sure, that we left the tale of Lord Voldemort’s beginnings at the point where the handsome Muggle, Tom Riddle, had abandoned his witch wife, Merope, and returned to his family home in Little Hangleton. Merope was left alone in London, expecting the baby who would one day become Lord Voldemort.”

“How do you know she was in London? Couldn't she have been anywhere in the UK at that point?” Annabeth interjected.

“I know she was indeed in London, because of the evidence of one Caractacus Burke.” Dumbledore poured a new memory into the Pensieve, revealing an old man's face in the spinning, liquid moonlight.

“Yes, we acquired it in curious circumstances.” Burke’s slithering voice rose from the Pensive. In his hand, he held Slytherin’s locket. “It was brought in by a young witch just before Christmas, oh, many years ago now. She said she needed the gold badly, well, that much was obvious. Covered in rags and pretty far along... going to have a baby, see. She said the locket had been Slytherin’s. Well, we hear that sort of story all the time, ‘Oh, this was Merlin’s, this was, his favorite teapot,’ but when I looked at it, it had his mark all right, and a few simple spells were enough to tell me the truth. Of course, that made it near enough priceless. She didn’t seem to have any idea how much it was worth. Happy to get ten Galleons for it. Best bargain we ever made!”

Dumbledore shook the Pensieve, and Burke disappeared.

Annabeth stared in disbelief at the now empty bowl. Again, her feelings of protection over Merope rose like bile in her throat. “I’m not great with wizarding money, but, ten galleons doesn’t sound like a lot. Especially for a priceless artifact.” All of Annabeth's self-control couldn't keep the shortness from her voice.

“Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity,” Dumbledore replied. He didn't mention her tone. “So, we know that, near the end of her pregnancy, Merope was alone in London, and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was one of Marvolo’s treasured family heirlooms.”

“But, she could do magic!”Annabeth cried. “She could have got food and everything for herself that way, couldn’t she?”

“Ah. Perhaps she could. But it is my belief - I am guessing again, but, I am sure I am right - that when her husband abandoned her, Merope stopped using magic. I do not think that she wanted to be a witch any longer. Of course, it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers, that can happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life.”

“But... she was pregnant. She was going to have a baby boy. A child that needed her!” Annabeth thought of her own parent - her father. Athena, though she was a wise and powerful goddess, wasn't exactly a maternal figure to Annabeth. But her dad... he’d gunned down an army of monsters for her. He'd risked his life to save her, even after she'd run away twice, no doubt hurting him pretty badly. Why couldn't Merope just live so her son could have a mother?

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?”

“No.” The word came out a little too quickly for Annabeth's own liking.

“Do not judge her too harshly, Miss Chase. She was greatly weakened by long suffering, and she never had much courage. And now, if you will stand.”

“Whose memory are we going to today?”

“This time, we are going to enter my memory. I think you will find it both rich in detail and satisfyingly accurate. After you...”

Annabeth bent over the Pensieve, plunged her face into the cool surface of the memory, then fell through a familiar darkness…

Seconds later, her feet hit pavement. She opened her eyes and looked around; the scene was something straight out of Dickens. Grey, cobblestone roads meandered around brownstone buildings, the tallest of which was four stories at best. While Annabeth could see one or two old-fashioned automobiles, horse-drawn carts easily outnumbered them. People in dark coats and hats bustled on the city streets, the attire bearing a striking resemblance her father's World War II photographs. Since Annabeth didn't see any “Keep Calm and Carry On” posters, or any other hallmarks of the London Blitz, she assumed it was the late 1930's.

“There I am.” Dumbledore pointed in front of him, drawing Annabeth's attention to a tall figure crossing the cobblestone.

This Dumbledore looked decades younger. His hair, though still the same length, was a more auburn color. He hadn't yet received the many wrinkles on his face, minus a few laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. His blue eyes were more energetic and vibrant, his whole body moved with the energy of a younger man. He looked in his mid 50's, though Annabeth still picked up on the air of wisdom most sensed in older men. Annabeth had long since realized that wisdom came from experience, not age, so she didn't find the presence of that aura too surprising.

Young Dumbledore walked through the streets with both speed and purpose. He kept his eyes straight in front of him, not slowing his gait for anyone or anything. That didn't stop the Londoners from staring at him, though. Annabeth couldn't blame them, because, much like Bob Ogden, Dumbledore hadn't mastered mortal clothing. He wore a thick, velvet suit the same bright, fake, grape-candy color of Mr. D's eyes. With summer sun beating down on her, Annabeth had to imagine how hot Dumbledore must've felt.

The longer they walked, the less scenic London got. By the time they reached the high, iron gates, the city looked downright repulsive. Black and rusting iron fencing surrounded a bare courtyard, with only two dying, yellow shrubs. And the square, brick buildings? While not as dirty as the Gaunt's hovel, they still needed a good power wash. Dirt clung to the faded bricks and concrete; grime covered the few windows Annabeth saw. All in all, it looked like a jail.

Dumbledore, the memory Dumbledore, walked up the dirt path to the main building, and knocked on the wooden door. An aproned girl Annabeth’s age opened it.

“Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?” Dumbledore gave a pleasant smile, which the girl didn't return.

“Oh.” She regarded the suit with a stunned expression, then decided to evaluate how interesting her shoes were. “Um... just a mo’... MRS. COLE!” A distant voice shouted something in response, but Annabeth couldn’t make it out. The girl turned back to the young Dumbledore. “Come in, she’s on ‘er way.”

While useful, the conversation between Mrs. Cole and Dumbledore was pretty run of the mill. They talked a bit about Merope, and Riddle’s past; how he bullied the other kids, and so on. Mrs. Cole drank herself into idle gossip, droning on and on about her charge. Only after nearly an hour of listening to the matron talk did they reach the room of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Annabeth and the two Dumbledores entered the room, Mrs. Cole closing the door as she left. Riddle's room was shabby and small, like the other parts of the orphanage Annabeth had seen. He only had three pieces of furniture: bed, wardrobe, and wooden chair. The room couldn't fit anything else, though; it was the size of a walk-in closet. A single window, small and oval shaped, let in a little sun. The single beam focused on the pale face of an eleven-year-old, reading a book on the thin sheets of his bed.

There was no resemblance to the Gaunts in Tom Riddle’s face. Merope had got her dying wish; her son was a clone of his handsome father. He was tall for his age, with dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, and pale but healthy skin. Even in his shabby clothes, his natural looks were enough to make him shine through.

His head rose from his book, eyes narrowed at Dumbledore’s get-up. Annabeth saw reservation there, faint curiosity masked by suspicion. Riddle wanted to know what was going to happen, but, at the same time, wouldn't let himself lose any ground. There was cunning in those eyes. Intelligence. Resourcefulness.

He was the very embodiment of Slytherin himself.

“How do you do, Tom?” Dumbledore strode forward and stuck out his hand. Riddle hesitated, but took it. Then, Dumbledore grabbed the wooden chair and swung it around to Riddle's bedside. “I am Professor Dumbledore.”

“‘Professor’?” Riddle questioned.“Is that like ‘doctor’? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?” With his finger pointed at the door, it was clear 'she' was Mrs. Cole.

“No, no.” Dumbledore didn't seem bothered in the least, a pleasant and calm smile on his face.

“I don’t believe you. She wants me looked at, doesn’t she? Tell the truth!”

That command made Annabeth - uncomfortable, maybe? She couldn’t place the emotion. - though, she didn't have the faintest idea why. She wrote off the feeling; it was just her nerves acting up, seeing her new enemy for the first time.

Except, Annabeth didn't get this nervous over new enemies.

Riddle’s angry eyes bore into Dumbledore, who made no response. “Who are you?” Again, the question came out as a command.

“I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore, and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school - your new school, if you would like to come.”

Riddle backed away from Dumbledore, furious. “You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course - well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!”

_He's just suspicious, Annabeth._

Dumbledore didn’t react. “I am not from the asylum. I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you - ”

“I’d like to see them try.”

_Stop reading into it._

“Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities - ”

“I’m not mad!”

_There's no need to work yourself up; you're just drawing conclusions where none exists._

“I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic.”

Silence.

Riddle froze. His face was expressionless. Nothing moved but his eyes, which darted between Dumbledore’s features. He was looking for a hint of foul play, that barest reason to believe he was being tricked or lied to.

Annabeth knew that feeling all too well.

“Magic?” Riddle's awed whisper filled the room. His whole face lit with a wild excitement, giddy with energy.

That reaction sealed the deal. No longer could Annabeth convince herself she was seeing things. Her own mind was scaring her more than any quest, any horcrux. She couldn't believe her own thoughts; they were absurd, they were repulsive. And yet...

Dumbledore nodded. “That’s right.”

“It’s... it’s magic, what I can do?”

> _Dr. Thorn roared, transforming into a monster Annabeth recognized. "A manticore!"_
> 
> _"Who are you people?" Bianca demanded. "And what is that?"_
> 
> _"A manticore?" Nico gasped, an energized thrill clear in his words. "He's got three thousand attack power and plus five to saving throws!"_

In her stupor, Annabeth heard a faint rattling sound from the wardrobe's direction. She forced herself to watch the memory again. It looked like Dumbledore had cast a spell on the wardrobe. At least, that's what Riddle's frightened expression told her.

“Open the door,” Dumbledore instructed, words complete with a stern gaze. Riddle hesitated for half a second, then crossed the room, and threw open the door. On the top shelf, a small, cardboard box shook violently. “Take it out.” Riddle grabbed the box off the shelf, with a certain amount of reservation. “Is there anything in that box that you ought not to have?”

Riddle gave Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. “Yes, I suppose so, sir.” No hint of remorse appeared in his words.

“Open it.” Riddle took off the lid, dumping the contents of the box onto his bed without a second glance. It was a bunch of everyday objects: a yo-yo, a silver thimble, a worn down harmonica, and so on. Once out of the box, the objects fell still on the thin blankets. “You will return them to their owners with your apologies. I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned: Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts.”

Riddle stared coldly and at Dumbledore. The tiniest hint of anger flashed in his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“At Hogwarts, we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have - inadvertently, I am sure - been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic - yes, there is a Ministry - will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws.”

“Yes, sir.” Riddle replaced the objects in their box robotically. “I haven’t got any money.”

“That is easily remedied.” Dumbledore took a leather wallet from his pocket. Riddle grabbed it, and removed a golden Galleon, turning it over in his hands. “There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy some of your spellbooks and so on second-hand, but - ”

“Where do you buy spellbooks?”

“In Diagon Alley. I have your list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything - ”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Certainly, if you - ”

“I don’t need you. I’m used to doing things for myself; I go round London on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley - sir?” 

> _Nico wouldn't stop glaring at Percy with a dark set of eyes that carried far too much anger for an eleven-year-old. “What do you care if I’m safe? You got my sister killed!”_
> 
> _He refused to trust Percy, or Annabeth, or anyone with the power to help him. He was powerful, far more dangerous than even he knew, and angry at the world. That wasn’t a good combination._
> 
> _“Nico,” Annabeth said, “That wasn’t Percy’s fault. And Geryon wasn’t lying about Kronos wanting to capture you. If he knew who you were, he’d do anything to get you on his side.”_
> 
> _“I’m not on anyone’s side. And I’m not afraid.”_

Dumbledore handed Riddle an envelope, telling him how to get to Diagon Alley. “You will be able to see it, although Muggles around you - non-magical people, that is - will not. Ask for Tom the barman - easy enough to remember, as he shares your name - ” Riddle's lip twitched slightly at that comment. “You dislike the name ‘Tom’?”

“There are a lot of Toms,” Riddle muttered. Then, as the thought occurred to him, he burst out into excited chatter again. “Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too; they’ve told me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“My mother can’t have been magic, or she wouldn’t have died. It must’ve been him. So - when I’ve got all my stuff - when do I come to this Hogwarts?”

“All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope. You will leave from King’s Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there, too.”

Dumbledore got to his feet and held out his hand again. Taking it, Riddle allowed himself one last question. “I can speak to snakes. I found out when we’ve been to the country on trips - they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?” He seemed determined to impress his professor.

“It is unusual,” Dumbledore replied, though now it was his turn to show reserve. “But not unheard of.”

One final silence fell while Dumbledore looked over Riddle; their handshake turned momentarily into a battle of wills. Then, Dumbledore dropped his piercing gaze, and walked to the doorway. “Good-bye, Tom. I shall see you at Hogwarts.”

“I think that will do, Miss Chase.”

Dumbledore, the older Dumbledore, nodded at Annabeth. He took her hand, and led her back into the dark. It took only a second to appear back in the headmaster's office. A second too long.

Annabeth must not have as good a poker face as she thought. The moment he could, Dumbledore began to examine her. “Sit, and tell me what’s troubling you.”

Annabeth collapsed in the chair, her eyes falling shut. She felt sick to her stomach. “Riddle just... he - ”

“Reminded you of Mr. di Angelo?” Dumbledore asked softly.

“Yeah,” Annabeth whispered. “But... Nico would never kill innocent mortals, or cheat death, or do anything like Riddle. Look at who his father is, for crying out loud!” Her words were more to convince herself than Dumbledore; they both knew it.

“I’m not disputing that fact. I agree that Mr. di Angelo is wholly good.”

Annabeth allowed herself a deep breath. "I’ve always known there was an element of darkness to Nico. He's a son of Hades, and with his history... it’s understandable. But, seeing someone like that, and thinking of him...”

“You do not give your quest mate enough credit. He trusts others. He has friends in which to confide. Lord Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, as you know him, operates alone. He trusts no one.”

“His sister Bianca said not knowing how to trust others was Nico’s fatal flaw. Grudges, and things.”

“Then don’t let that destroy him.” Dumbledore allowed a long moment to pass, so his words could sink in. “As a child of one of the big three gods, I am told that his power is great, the likes of which I can only imagine. If you know his fatal flaw, make sure that Lord Voldemort cannot exploit it. Make certain Mr. di Angelo can control it.”

Annabeth nodded. She still felt sick, but Dumbledore's words had merit. Lots of people displayed similar personality traits at eleven, no matter who they grew up to be. Nico was no more alike to Riddle than she was.

Dumbledore glanced at a grandfather clock beside his desk, shaking his head in dismay. “Time is making fools of us again, but, before we part, I want to make sure you noticed to certain features of the scene we have just witnessed, for they have a great bearing on the matters at hand.”

“He was collecting things,” Annabeth noted. She was glad to move the subject to something more pleasant. “Hiding them like horcruxes.”

“Correct. These were taken from victims of his bullying behavior, souvenirs, if you will, of particularly unpleasant bits of magic.”

“It’s like what Nico said before; how you have to kill someone to make a horcrux. He only took things from his big bullying adventures, stuff he would remember. He'd operate with his horcruxes in the same way, using only the most memorable deaths to split his soul. That should make them easier to find, if we know when he made each horcrux, we'd have an idea of where he hid them.”

“Indeed." Annabeth picked up on a bit of pride in Dumbledore’s voice. "What else?”

She thought for a second. “He didn’t like it when you called him Tom. Didn’t he create that nickname on his own? Lord Voldemort, I mean."

"And of what value is that information?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes proved this was a test. He knew the answer, but he wanted Annabeth to come up with the solution. Brain churning, Annabeth went over the moment until she found something of use.

"He doesn't like anything ordinary. He wanted to be special, like when he told you about speaking Parseltongue. He wanted to impress you. That could be a weakness. If he refuses to accept that he can make mistakes, that makes him that much more likely to make a wrong turn. His arrogance and pride in his plans could be to our advantage, if we exploit it in the right way."

The warm smile that Dumbledore had worn with Riddle returned to his lips in front of her. “Full marks, Miss Chase. And now, it is really time for bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Freedom Fighter's Go Fund Me](https://www.gofundme.com/freedomfighterdvcc)
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	12. Percy Goes All Big Brother on Malfoy's Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico's dreams begin to affect his reality, and the reality of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing, Self-Harm, Non-graphic Violence.  
> Word Count: 4954 Words
> 
>  
> 
> Can I just mention how much I love that title?
> 
> Also, posting super early today because I have a LOT of stuff to do today - getting my license, finalizing pre-college stuff, and my friend Zach wrote a show, so I'm going to see its opening night tonight at 8. And midterms start on Tuesday, so I have to study for that. What fun...
> 
> EDIT (March 14, 2016): I was responding to comments and ended up rereading parts of this author's note, and realized that I said "I'm going to see it's opening night" instead of what's above (I just fixed it). Yup. I, a(n apparently) professional writer, messed up "it's" and "its". 
> 
> Ah well, the Founding Fathers messed up "it's" and "its" in the literal US Constitution, and that thing was (at least, in part) physically written by Alexander Hamilton, arguably one of the most eloquent people in early American history.
> 
> Point is, earlier in this document I messed up "it's" and "its"... and I am sorry...
> 
> (Also, and I'm LEGIT serious on this, the first person to see this and tell me what the above line a reference to will get a prize. Won't tell you what, just know that you get to choose between three options.)
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

****

“One last time,” Teddy commanded. For the millionth time that night, Nico stepped forward. His eyes burned, his muscles screamed, his body dripped with sweat... Beyond exhausted, he rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing the tremor in his hand to lessen. The best way to get some rest would be to just do what Teddy asked, instead of arguing with him. Nico knew that from experience. “Go on, Nico. Then you can go to bed.”

“Sleep...” Nico sighed.

Teddy laughed at Nico's wishful tone of voice. “You sound like I’m torturing you.”

“You are torturing me.” 

They stood on the grounds of Westover Hall, where there was more space. The late afternoon sun allowed for perfect vision, with a dull, cloudy sky to keep its heat away. Every night's visit to Westover had had that weather; maybe Teddy could control that somehow? The school looked abandoned too; no students ran around the grounds like in Nico’s memory, no belongings littered the grass. Nico could only see the expanse of green lawn, with the dorms on one side and cliffs on the other. 

Teddy decided to train Nico outside on the first day of practice, to allow for more space. Since Nico was pretty handy with a sword, they'd focused on defensive moves, like this one. That meant they hadn't needed any monsters to practice on. But, Nico wondered about the day they might want to test Nico's skills. Was Dr. Thorn was somewhere in the school? If he was, he would likely be his opponent. The son of Hades didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Go on, Nico. One last time.”

As he took a deep breath through his nose, Nico raised his arms to waist level. He drew his hands back, feeling a familiar sensation of raw energy building in his forearms. When the air in front of him grew electric, Nico thrust his arms out, palms parallel to his face, shouting “Protect me!” in Ancient Greek. From the middle of his palm, a seemingly endless, thick darkness poured out. It quickly surrounded Nico's entire body, the barrier solidifying inches from his face. “Expand!” Nico commanded, and the shadow shield responded immediately. It moved farther in all directions, only stopping only when it reached Teddy, ten feet away.

“Hold it!” Teddy instructed. Nico did, each second draining more and more energy from his body. Teddy pulled out his wand and shot a few spells, ending with the green  _ Avada Kedavra _ . The shield held, despite Nico's level of exhaustion.“And... release!” Nico's knees buckled the moment he lowered his arms. Smiling from ear to ear, Teddy walked over to Nico, who was collapsed on the grass. “That was incredible! Nice work!”

“Mmmmm,” Nico groaned, and curled up in a ball on the grass. “Sleep now. Talk later.”

“Have it your way. See you tomorrow night.”

The night was wet and windy. Two children, dressed up as pumpkins, strolled across the sidewalk. Even the shop window looked decorated, with the glass covered in paper spiders. Nico laughed at the irony. Why should people who didn’t believe in magic honor its holiday? But his laugh was not his laugh, rather, it came out cold and cruel like Kronos’s. With his feet gliding along the dark sidewalk, he felt an air of purpose about him, a sense of power, of righteousness. He was looking forward to the evening's events; he’d been waiting for this moment a long time...

“Nice costume, mister!” A boy's voice called out to him, but fear clouded his innocent face when he glanced beneath Nico's hood. Smile gone, he turned and ran away… Nico touched the wand in his cloak pocket. With one flick, the child would never reach his mother... but Nico could never. Instead, his silent footsteps brought him to a cottage, eyes peering into a window over a dark hedge.

He saw them in their little living room, the young family. A tall, black-haired man with glasses. A curly-haired toddler in blue pajamas. The father made puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand while his son laughed, grabbing at it with his small fists. A door opened and there she was: a robin-haired woman with bright eyes. The father picked up his son and handed him to his mother, then threw his wand on the sofa. He stretched, yawning...

The gate creaked a little as Nico pushed it open, but no one heard. Nico’s hand - as foreign as his laugh - took the wand out of his cloak pocket and pointed it at the door. The door burst open with a crack, and Nico strolled inside as the father sprinted into the hall. It was too easy, he hadn’t even grabbed his wand off the couch... 

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off!”

Nico laughed. Hold him off? Without a wand? “Avada Kedavra!” 

Effervescent green light filled the hallway, and the man fell like a puppet with cut strings… he was dead before he hit the floor. He could hear the mother screaming from upstairs, trapped like the animal she was. He walked up the steps with calm and ease, loving the thrill of the chase. The melody of the mother dragging furniture to create a barricade became his mantra...

The chairs and boxes piled against the door blew apart with a wave of his wand. Nico saw her, her son in her arms. When she saw Nico, she dropped the child into the crib behind her and tried to shield him. It was as though she thought he would kill her instead of her son if he couldn’t see the child. 

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”

“Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside now.” 

His voice wasn't his own. It was higher pitched, as cold and cruel as his laugh. There was no warmth, no emotion, only contempt, and disgust.

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead - ”

“This is my last warning - ”

“Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy..."

“Stand aside." 

"Not Harry! Not Harry!"

"Stand aside, girl!” 

"Please - I’ll do anything - ”

“Avada Kedavra!” 

The green light hit her square in the chest, and she fell like her husband had. The child didn't cry, not this time. He stood up, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up at Nico’s face with interest. Did he think that it was his father under the cloak, making more pretty light? That his mother would pop up any moment, laughing? 

He pointed the wand at the child's face. Green eyes fell on the face under the cloak, the sight bringing hysteria to the toddler's eyes. He'd seen that it wasn’t his father. 

“Avada Kedavra!”

Nico woke up with a start. He stared at the outline of his hand in the dark dorm room, thanking every god he could think of when he recognized it as his own. Beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead and brow, and it wasn't from the hard training with Teddy. He'd had bad dreams before, they were part of the demigod job description, but this was a little harder to digest. He needed help, to talk to someone, to figure out what Hades - if he'd even sent the dream - wanted Nico to take from it. For all he knew, trapped in that night was the secret to the quest's success. But, Nico couldn't make himself even think about the dream, much less process and dissect it.

His iPod said it was 3:36 AM, which meant it was around eleven at night in New York. There was a pretty good chance that Will would be awake, or Jason. If they were both asleep, it was only seven in San Francisco, so Hazel, Reyna, or even Frank were options, too. He'd want to try Will first, because he knew more about the followers of Hecate than his friends or sister. Anyone else would need long explanations Nico didn't feel like giving, plus they might get protective after they found out about the whole boggart attack thing. With Will, at least Nico had a better shot at actually talking about the dream. 

That plan in mind, Nico tiptoed out of bed and into the bathroom, where he sent the IM. The image shimmered to form Will, closing up the Big House's infirmary for the night. “Hey, Will!” Nico called. At the sound of his voice, Will turned, revealing a pleasant smile.

“Hey!” Will greeted him. “What’s up?”

“Dream. Mind if we talk?” At Will's nod, Nico launched into the story. It was easier to keep talking after he started, as long as he didn't think about the actual people in the dream. For that reason, he called them "Dream me", "the father", "the mother", and "the child", or “his/her son". But, Nico couldn't keep their identities a secret forever; their identities were the root of Nico’s problem with the nightmare. “The father, he looked almost exactly like Harry Potter. And, I know the mother called her son 'Harry'. I think… I think I just saw Harry’s parents' murder.”

Will took a second to process everything. He had his 'thinking face' on: pursed lips, furrowed brow, eyes darting around the room. He sighed slightly before he opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t know what to say, Neeks. Who do you think killed them?”

“Don’t call me - oh whatever. I think, well this is going to sound stupid, but I think it was Riddle. You know, Tom Riddle.” 

Will’s eyes widened. “The guy you’re after? He tried to kill a toddler?” 

“He’s a cold-blooded murderer. You have to be, to create horcruxes."

"But... are you sure? Did you see the dream you's face or - "

"I can't explain it, Will - it's just a feeling I have. But, I mean, it makes sense, thinking about it. My father told me that there's this second prophecy, one from Hecate. It says that Harry's going to kill - or at least play a big role somehow - in Riddle's death within the next two years. If Riddle found out about that prophecy, especially at the height of his power all those years ago, what's to stop him from trying to defy fate? Heroes do it all the time.” 

"But, if he's so powerful, why did he fail? If that's really Harry and his family you saw, Harry didn't die."

"The mother. The blessing of a mother is a powerful thing when it comes to magic. Sally's blessing saved Percy when he swam in the Styx, it was her love and will for him to survive that made it so. When Harry's mother begged Riddle to spare her son, she effectively gave Harry his own blessing of life. That's what saved him - and that's what destroyed Riddle the first time. He should've died right then and there, but he didn't because of his horcruxes; that was his first defiance of Hades. But, that's beside the point. I can’t understand why my father, assuming it's him, sent me this vision. I thought you could help."

"You said Hades wanted you to befriend Harry. Maybe he's trying to give you a look into his psyche?"

Nico rolled his eyes. "Psyche? Could you be any more of a dork?" 

That got a teasing smile from Will. "Part of my charm."

Nico shook his head in mock disgust. Then, he got back on topic. "If that's what Father wanted, it didn't work. I just don't get it - if Riddle killed Harry's parents, why is he interfering with the quest? Wouldn’t he want Riddle dead?”

“He doesn’t know that’s what you’re looking for, Nico! If he did, I'm sure he'd stay out of your way. It comes down to that feud you two have; he’s just looking for an excuse to fight you. He's suspicious of you because he knows so little, and he's clearly been through a lot.”

“Just because he doesn’t know my life story doesn't mean I’m evil or something."

"Well, I know that, but he doesn't. Maybe you had that dream so you could try and empathize with him."

"What? No!” Nico snapped. Rage boiled deep in the pit of his stomach. “After that boggart attack?! After everything Harry did to me?! I could never... he’s not just some nosy brat, he's a horrible, violent person!”

“Yeah, but you know what it’s like to be an orphan," Will pointed out. "You can’t just feel nothing for him, knowing what you know.”

“I don’t care what happened to him. He tried to kill me.”

“If I remember correctly, you attempted to kill Percy once.” The smugness of Will's voiced irked Nico even more.

“That was different! I was grieving, I blamed him for Bianca’s death and - ”

“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that maybe Harry’s going through the same thing? We don’t know him at all, maybe he lost someone too and is taking his anger out on you.”

“I - I can’t believe you’re taking his side!” Nico's voice was more full of hurt than he'd intended.

“I’m not taking his side, I’m just pointing out that - ”

“That trying to murder me is justified?!”

“That people are complicated, and, maybe, just maybe, you’ve labeled him as a second Riddle, when he’s just a kid like you.” Will's voice had some frustration in it now, too. “If anything, your dream proves that we know nothing about him! I just think you should get all the facts before you start deciding he’s a murderer! I mean, imagine if Percy gave up on you when you - ”

“So you’re saying I should forgive Harry Potter for trying to kill me.” 

“Nico, let me talk. I’m saying maybe the gods gave you that dream to try and get you to relate to Harry, to try and get to know him. You need Harry, your father said so himself.”

Nico threw his hands up, enraged. “So now I’m not capable of doing this alone?” 

“Stop twisting my words! I’m not saying that at all!”

“You’re saying that exactly! What else does ‘you need Harry’ mean?!” Nico mocked Will’s tone when he repeated his words, making Will's jaw clench with anger. 

“Goodnight, Nico,” he said coldly, and waved his hands through the mist.

“Thanks for nothing!” Nico shouted at the empty air. He stomped his way back to his bed to try and use up the rage-fueled adrenaline, not caring who he woke. He wanted to fight, he wanted to hurt somebody… 

_ I want to hurt somebody? Where did that come from? That's not me... I'm acting like Clarisse! _

_ It’s because you love him.  _

It was that voice again, the small one Nico couldn't seem to get rid of.

_ You wanted Will to take your side no matter what. You wanted him to show that he loved you back. _

“Shut up,” Nico growled to himself. He didn’t love Will Solace, he didn’t. He couldn’t love someone that would one day break his heart. As soon as he found out what Nico did when he was alone in the dark - the way he drew a blade on his arm, the way he loved to feel that pain, the way he lived for it - he'd dump him for someone else. Nico was a liar, he was a monster... The devil incarnate, as his mom would call that Italian dictator after they were safe in America.

He could only imagine what Will would say if he knew: "How dare you lie to me!", "You monster, how is this what you call fun?", "I can’t believe you would lead me on only to do this!", and a thousand other things that made Nico want to tear his hair out, scream, cry, and cut all at the same time. No, he couldn’t let himself fall in love with Will. It would hurt too much.

The more Nico thought about it, the more Nico wanted to cry. He sat alone in the dark,  _ Blackbird  _ by  _ The Beatles _ (his sadness guilty pleasure) playing in his ears on repeat, trying not to think about Will… and failed at that. Badly. The longer Nico thought about their fight, the worse he felt. He’d been an idiot, and might’ve just messed up one of the best things that ever happened to him. By the time four AM rolled around, Nico was lying face-down on his bed, crying into his pillow. Harry had done it again, he’d ruined another part of Nico’s life.

_ Not him. You did. _

And that thought depressed Nico more than anything else.

Eventually, Nico cried himself to sleep. His new dreams were only of Will, calling him out on his cutting and breaking up with him in a thousand different ways. He woke up around six; normally he’d send an IM home around now, but Nico knew that he shouldn't bother. Will wouldn't answer; he’d still be mad because of their fight.

“You look awful,” Malfoy sneered. He was dressed, so he'd drawn open the curtains separating their beds. “I heard you crying last night, di Angelo. Thinking about all the people you’re going to - ”

That was as far as Malfoy got, because right then Nico slammed him against the wall with full force. At the bang, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle woke up to the sight of Nico’s sword against Malfoy’s neck. “You think I’m playing around, Malfoy?! You think that I’m some weak little kid you can mess around with? Some stupid little student you can bully?” 

Nico's face was inches away from Malfoy’s. The follower of Hecate was silent, face white with fear. But, Nico was just getting started.

“You wouldn’t last a minute where I’m from, Malfoy. Where I come from, everything and everyone wants to kill you, everything and everyone betrays you. You learn pretty quickly that you’re all you got. You either defend yourself or die trying, and if someone’s there to help you, it’s a miracle. I’ve been through more shit than you can even believe, more shit than you can even imagine. My mother is dead. My sister is dead. I’m the last di Angelo standing, and I’ll tell you why. It’s because I have no problem getting rid of anyone who stands in my way. So shut the fuck up and leave me alone, you got that?!”

Malfoy nodded vigorously, and backed away slowly, mumbling half-assed retorts to try and save face. Once he and his two goons were gone, Blaise found Nico’s side, wide-eyed. “What in Merlin’s name was that? Why did you say that to him?”

Alone now, except for Blaise, Nico didn’t care about showing strength anymore. He plopped on his bed in silence, still staring at the spot on the wall where he'd pinned Malfoy. “He couldn’t get away with that boggart.” Nico's voice was empty and emotionless. He sounded tired; he  _ was  _ tired.

“Are - are your sister and mom - are they really, you know, dead?” Nico nodded, and a look of understanding appeared on Blaise’s face. “That girl, the one in the green hat. That was your sister, wasn’t it?”

Nico nodded again. “Bianca di Angelo. She died when I was ten.”

They were both quiet for a little while. Blaise needed processing time, and Nico couldn't help but think about all his dead loved ones. He had so many, too many. Finally, Blaise broke the silence. “Malfoy said you were crying last night. What happened?”

Nico lied down on his bed, staring at the ceiling with his hands on his chest. “Will and I had a stupid fight. I just… I’m afraid it’s gonna break us up.” 

Blaise walked over to Nico and sat down next to him, hand on shoulder. “It won’t. I promise."

“Blaise?” Nico asked, his voice weak, “Can you make something up for me? I don’t feel like going to class today.”

“Sure, Nico. I’ll get Hestia to think of something. Want me to bring you breakfast?” Nico shook his head, prompting Blaise to find Hestia. All the death and grief and anger on his mind was too much for him. The second he was alone, the black towel was out, his arm was cut, and the ambrosia was applied after repeating 'sixty' a thousand times. Then, he made his way back over to his bed, rolled over, and let tears the fall.

_ Why do I always mess up every halfway decent thing that ever happens to me? _

It didn’t help that  _ Do You Hear the People Sing  _ started playing on Nico’s iPod the moment he closed his eyes.

** ____________________ **PERCY** ____________________ **

 

****

When Percy got to the Great Hall, he realized something was wrong. At first it was just a feeling, one that he chose to ignore during breakfast. Instead, he spent his time talking to Fred and George about Quidditch, the best ways to get out of doing reading homework, stuff like that. He’d stopped hanging out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione for three reasons:

  1. He was still furious at Harry about the boggart attack.
  2. Harry, Ron, and Hermione would stare at him like he was Ares whenever he walked too close to them.
  3. He really should have friends his own age, anyway.



He liked Fred and George. They didn’t ask him questions about where he came from, or who Nico was (he was still kicking himself about the Lares/ghosts slip he had on the first day). They just joked around, and, as long as Percy helped them with these awesome snack boxes they’d created, let him tag along in the common room or on the grounds or wherever. It wasn't the same as hanging out with Jason, Grover, Tyson, Frank, Hazel, Piper, Leo, or any of his other friends, but it didn't have to be. Percy just wanted people to talk to; he didn't need more siblings-in-arms.

When the topic changed to possible flying formations for the upcoming Quidditch match, Percy noticed what was going on at the Slytherin table. He saw Draco Malfoy, his least favorite Slytherin, talking to a small crowd like he was announcing the release of the next iPhone. He had his goons with him, along with a girl with blackish-brown hair. 

“What are they talking about over there?” Percy asked. The twins both shrugged.

“Beats me,” Fred replied. “Malfoy’s always going on about something or other.”

“Why don’t you ask your cousin?" George questioned. "Isn’t he a Slytherin?”

“Yeah,” Percy agreed, looking around for Nico. He didn’t see him. His friends, Blaise and Hestia, were sitting on the opposite end of the table, probably so they wouldn’t have to listen to what Malfoy was saying. Hestia looked annoyed at Blaise, and the way her hands moved gave Percy the impression that they were arguing. Blaise kept shaking his head, also getting flustered. The thing was, Nico wasn’t anywhere in sight, which was weird. Was he looking for the wall horcrux again? No, he would’ve found Percy and asked him if he wanted to tag along. It didn’t make sense. “I’ll be right back, guys. I'm going to go see what's up.”

On his way to the Slytherins, he decided to pop by the Ravenclaw table and grab Annabeth. “Hey, Percy!” Cho called out, making Annabeth turn.

“Hi, Cho. Annabeth, have you seen Nico anywhere? He’s not with his friends at the Slytherin table.”

Annabeth shook her head. “I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“Want to come with me and investigate? His friends look a little suspicious, so does Malfoy.”

Annabeth nodded. Then, she turned to the girls near her and said, “Go to class without me, I’ll meet you guys there.” Together, they walked to the Slytherin table, where Blaise and Hestia were still arguing. “Hey guys, have you seen Nico anywhere?”

“Sick,” they both announced at the same time, looking a little startled. It didn’t take a child of Athena to realize they were hiding something.

“So, he’s in the infirmary, then,” Annabeth deduced, trying to judge their reactions.

“Yes,” Blaise said, but Hestia had answered “No,” at the same time. 

“Is someone going to tell us what’s up?” Annabeth asked.

Hestia shook her head. “Sorry, Nico doesn’t want anyone to know. Blaise won’t even tell me.”

_ So that’s what they were arguing about.  _

“I’m his cousin,” Percy pointed out. “I don’t think I’m ‘anyone’. And, know what, exactly?”

“That he’s a crybaby,” Malfoy sneered, appearing next to Percy and Annabeth, almost like he’d shadow traveled. “Di Angelo was up half the night last night, kept me awake. Then, he attacked me. I’m sure Professor Umbridge will finally expel him like he deserves. After all, we can’t have someone mentally unstable at Hogwarts.”

At the words ‘mentally unstable’, Hestia drew her wand and pointed it at Malfoy. “Don’t talk about Nico like that.”

“Yeah!” Blaise exclaimed, standing behind her. “You weren’t so brave when Nico pinned you against a wall!”

Malfoy laughed, his eyes still on Hestia. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Carrow. Not that it matters, my father works with Umbridge, they know each other well from work. I’m sure she’d take the word of a Ministry official's son a bit more seriously than a half breed’s.”

Blaise pointed his wand at Malfoy’s chest. “Take that back, Malfoy!” His voice shook with anger.

“I’m only speaking the truth, Zabini. Her mother is a half-breed, don’t you keep up with the news?” Percy didn’t know what Malfoy meant, but Hestia looked white as a Lare, which angered him. Hestia was nice, according to Nico… and no one messed with his friends, or even friends of his friends.

“Lay off, Malfoy!” Percy yelled. “Go back to those goons you call your friends and leave her alone!”

Malfoy scoffed. “And what, are you going to make me?”

Percy gave his most Nico-like smile. “Where do you think Nico learned how to fight?” He moved his hand to his pocket, patting it threateningly. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes in disgust. “Fine, defend your half-breed sidekick, but it won’t do you any good.”

As soon as Malfoy was gone, Blaise hugged her. “It’s ok, Hestia,” he whispered in her ear, and she gave a shaky breath.

“I hate him. He gives all Slytherins a bad name.” Her voice was shaking.

“What was he talking about?” Percy asked. Annabeth shot him a look, like, ‘you idiot, why would you ask that?!’, but Hestia shook her head.

“No, it’s ok. I’m not ashamed,” she said. “Last winter… my mom was attacked by a werewolf. She got bitten, and turned. It was in the papers, that’s the only reason Malfoy knows. I’ve got a twin sister, Flora, she’s home with my mom, taking care of her.  I - I wanted to stay too but… well, our mom wanted at least one of us to have a typical childhood. It’s awful back at home. Mom can’t find work because of some anti-werewolf law, passed a while ago… by Umbridge.”

Annabeth gasped. “Are you telling me you’ve got a racist in your legal system, and no one’s doing anything about it?!”

Hestia nodded glumly. “That’s what Malfoy meant. Blaise might have a chance, his mom’s famous, and pure-blood all the way, but me? If it’s my word against Malfoy’s, there’s no way Nico’s not going to get into trouble. A lot of teachers think Dumbledore should have expelled him from the skeletons.”

“And not expel Malfoy and Potter for attacking him?!” Percy's voice was a million decibels louder than it should've been. The students within earshot gave him a look, but he didn’t care. He was beyond angry.

“Percy," Annabeth said, in an attempt to calm him down, "the only proof that Malfoy and Potter did anything to Nico is Nico’s word. And, if Umbridge thinks he’s guilty anyway, she’s not going to believe him unless he has proof.”

“You’re taking their side?!” Percy hissed.

“It’s unfair and awful… but it’s also true. Do you have any proof besides Nico saying it was Malfoy and Potter, while he was still distraught?” Percy didn’t want to admit that she was right. He opened his mouth to protest, but Annabeth cut him off. “If it weren’t Nico, you wouldn’t even believe him.”

As angry as Percy was, he couldn't really argue with that. “Maybe that’s why he’s staying in his bedroom. He’s mad at this stupid, messed up school.”

“Something like that, yeah…” Blaise mumbled offhandedly.

“Come on Percy, let’s get to class. Nico has to come out for lunch, we can talk to him then.” With that, Annabeth grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Blaise and Hestia. “I got another note from Dumbledore,” she whispered once they were out of earshot. “He said it’s our last lesson. Are you and Nico, if he shows up, going to wait outside the door again?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so.”

“Then try and think of a plan for us getting off the school grounds. We need to start searching for those other horcruxes. Now.”

Percy looked at her, confused. “But, didn’t you say that we should finish up at Hogwarts first?”

“That was when Umbridge was just another teacher! Now she’s getting more power, so staying is too risky. If we don’t leave while she’s still competing with Dumbledore, we might not get out until June! And who knows how long finding the other horcruxes will take. Besides, if we don’t hurry up, Hades will be angry. We can’t chance staying here for too much longer.”

“But... what about the wall horcrux?”

“If we have to come back, we have to come back.” Annabeth pecked him on the lips. “See you later, seaweed brain.” She walked up the stairs, skipping the trick step on her way to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blackbird is my all-time favorite song ever. My dad used to sing it to me as a lullaby, to this day I still have to call him when I have a panic attack; him singing it to me is the only thing that calms me down.
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	13. The Old Lady with the Schoolgirl Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth has her third and final lesson with Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Mild Cursing  
> Word Count: 4907
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

****

Neither Percy nor Nico appeared when Annabeth entered Dumbledore’s office that night. She knew that was for the best, but she was still a little disappointed. She worried about Nico, who hadn’t shown up all day, and she knew Percy was going out of his mind. Both they and Hestia had tried to get answers from Blaise, but he kept saying Nico didn’t want anyone to know.

“Then why do you know?” Percy had demanded at dinner that evening.

“I just kinda… stumbled on it…” Blaise had mumbled, body shifting uncomfortably.

“You don't know Nico like we do.” Annabeth had argued. “He dumps secrets on himself until he can’t take it anymore and explodes or runs. You’re not doing him any favors keeping it from us.”

“It’s not dangerous, it’s not bad, and it’s not anyone’s business except for his. So lay off, Chase.” Blaise had retorted. Then, he’d walked out of the Great Hall, most likely to check on Nico and get him to eat.

“Miss Chase?” Dumbledore asked.

Annabeth jumped, bringing her mind back to the present. “Sorry. Thinking about Nico - he’s been acting weird.”

“I’m aware Mr. di Angelo wasn’t in any of his classes today,” Dumbledore replied, eyebrows slightly raised.

“I don’t know much about it. The only person who does is Blaise Zabini, but he won’t tell me anything. I’m just worried about him; it looks like he hasn’t eaten all day, or left the Slytherin house.”

“Sometimes things are outside our control. To learn to let things take their course, especially with loved ones, is a hard, but necessary lesson. Do you believe Mr. di Angelo is in danger?”

“No.”

“Do you believe he is a danger to any student at Hogwarts?”

"No.”

“Then we shall say no more about it just now.”

"But - " Annabeth stopped herself, knowing that, on some level, Dumbledore was right. “Never mind.” The word was hard for her to choke out.

“So, we meet this evening to continue the tale of Tom Riddle, whom we left last lesson poised on the threshold of his years at Hogwarts. You will remember how excited he was to hear that he was a wizard, that he refused my company on a trip to Diagon Alley, and that I, in turn, warned him against continued thievery when he arrived at school. Well, the start of the school year arrived and with it came Tom Riddle, a quiet boy in his secondhand robes, who lined up with the other first years to be sorted. He was placed in Slytherin House almost the moment that the Sorting Hat touched his head. How soon Riddle learned that the famous founder of the House could talk to snakes, I do not know - perhaps that very evening. The knowledge can only have excited him and increased his sense of self-importance. However, if he was frightening or impressing fellow Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it reached the staff. He showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at all. As an unusually talented and very good-looking orphan, he naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of his arrival. He seemed polite, quiet, and thirsty for knowledge. Nearly all were most favorably impressed by him.”

“Didn’t you tell them what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?”

“No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Dumbledore paused and looked at Annabeth, at a loss for words. “But after what you saw, you couldn’t just think he was... ”

“Let us say that I did not take it for granted that he was trustworthy. I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keep a close eye upon him, and so I did. I cannot pretend that I gleaned a great deal from my observations at first. He was very guarded with me. He felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again, but he could not take back what he had let slip in his excitement, nor what Mrs. Cole had confided in me. However, he had the sense never to try and charm me as he charmed so many of my colleagues. As he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamor within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the Death Eaters, and, indeed, some of them became the first Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts. Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in the death of a girl. 

“I have not been able to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts. Few who knew him then are prepared to talk about him, they are too terrified. What I know, I found out after he had left Hogwarts, after much painstaking effort, after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike. Those whom I could persuade to talk told me that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage. This is understandable, of course; he had grown up in an orphanage and naturally wished to know how he came to be there. It seems that he searched in vain for some trace of Tom Riddle senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in the books of Wizarding history. Finally, he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name forever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother’s family - the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.” 

“All he had to go upon was the single name ‘Marvolo’, which he knew from those who ran the orphanage had been his mother’s father’s name. Finally, after painstaking research through old books of Wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin’s surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives."

Dumbledore rose from behind his desk, a crystal bottle in his hand. Inside held the silver liquid she recognized as a memory. "And now, Miss Chase, if you will stand. I was very lucky to collect this, as you will understand when we have experienced it. Shall we?”

Annabeth plunged her head into the Pensieve, and fell through the familiar darkness. Her feet landed on a dirty stone floor, surroundings masked by almost total darkness. It took her a few seconds to recognize the place, in which time Dumbledore fell beside her.

"Professor... is this the Gaunts' house?"

The hovel looked dirtier than anywhere Annabeth had ever seen - and she’d been in Percy’s bedroom before. The ceiling was thick with cobwebs, the floor a coat of dirt, food moldy on the table. A solitary speck of light came from a candle, sitting on the ground, off to one side of the room. Beside the candle, a middle-aged man sat in an armchair, sleeping with a wand in one hand and a knife in the other. His hair fell to his shoulders, so matted and filthy he resembled a hitchhiker. His clothes - ripped and coated with dirt - reminded Annabeth of the homeless men living on the side of San Francisco's main roads.

A loud knock at the door jerked the man awake. Startled, he held his wand and knife up to the doorway as it creaked open. Holding an old-fashioned lamp, the handsome, teenage Riddle entered. Eyes adjusting to the dark, Riddle surveyed his surroundings, landing on the man last. For a few seconds, they stared in silence. Then, the man stood. In a mad craze, he raised his weapons at Riddle, making his way towards the door. 

“YOU!” He stumbled towards Riddle on unsteady feet. "YOU!"

Riddle held up his hand, and hissed in Parseltongue. After the man had stopped coming after him with the knife, Riddle switched back to English. “Where is Marvolo?” he questioned, his face expressionless.

“Dead,” the man replied. “Died years ago, didn’t he?”

Riddle frowned. “Who are you, then?”

“I’m Morfin, ain’t I?”

“Marvolo’s son?”

“ ’Course I am, then...” Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face, to try and get a better look at Riddle. The black ring, Marvolo’s ring, shone on his middle finger in the candlelight. “I thought you was that Muggle. You look mighty like that Muggle.”

Riddle narrowed his eyes. “What Muggle?”

“That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle who lives in the big house over the way.” Morfin spat on the floor, disgusted. “You look right like him. Riddle. But he’s older now, in ’e? He’s older’n you, now I think on it...” Drunkenness overcame Morfin. He swayed a little, clutching the edge of the table for support. “He come back, see.”

Riddle eyed Morfin, plotting. He inched closer to his uncle, his voice barely a whisper. “Riddle came back?”

“Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!” Morfin spat again. “Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where’s the locket, eh, where’s Slytherin’s locket?” Riddle didn’t answer, despite Morfin's anger. He pointed his knife at his nephew, screaming, “Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who’re you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It’s over, innit... it’s over...” He turned his back to Riddle, still clutching the table when darkness fell over the scene; both the candle and lamp faded into black oblivion....

Dumbledore grabbed Annabeth's arm, pulling her back to the Headmaster's office. The sudden light startled Annabeth’s eyes, which had grown used to that impenetrable darkness. “Is that it?” she demanded. “Why did it go dark? What happened?”

“It went dark because Morfin could not remember anything from that point onward.” Dumbledore moved back to his desk, so Annabeth did the same. “When he awoke next morning, he was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo’s ring had gone. Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the High Street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father. The Muggle authorities were perplexed. As far as I am aware, they do not know to this day how the Riddles died, for the Avada Kedavra curse does not usually leave any sign of damage. The Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard’s murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater, who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people. So, the Ministry called upon Morfin.” 

“They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And, he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed him was the fact that his father’s ring had disappeared. ‘He’ll kill me for losing it,’ he told his captors over and over again. ‘He’ll kill me for losing his ring.’ And that, apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo’s last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison, alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls.”

Annabeth leaned forward. “So, you’re implying that Riddle stole Morfin’s wand? And used it to murder his father and grandparents?”

“Correct. We have no memories to show us this, but I think we can be fairly sure what happened. Voldemort Stupefied his uncle, took his wand, and proceeded across the valley to ‘the big house over the way’. There, he murdered the Muggle man who had abandoned his witch mother, and, for good measure, his Muggle grandparents, thus obliterating the last of the unworthy Riddle line, and revenging himself upon the father who never wanted him. Then, he returned to the Gaunt hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false memory in his uncle’s mind, laid Morfin’s wand beside its unconscious owner, pocketed the ancient ring he wore, and departed.”

“And Morfin never realized he hadn’t done it?” 

“Never. He gave, as I say, a full and boastful confession.”

“But, he had this real memory in him all the time! Why didn’t your government - ”

“It took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him. Why should anybody delve further into Morfin’s mind when he had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Voldemort’s past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin’s release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision, however, Morfin had died.” 

Annabeth felt dirty just hearing that. Riddle’s plan was… it was smart, almost a plot her mother would be proud of, if it weren’t so evil. Why did the gods give such brains to men like Tom Riddle? What good did that do for anyone?

Dumbledore gestured to another memory on his desk, interrupting Annabeth’s musings. “Now, you will remember, I hope, that I told you at the very outset of these meetings of ours that we would be entering the realms of guesswork and speculation?”

“Yes.”

“Thus far, as I hope you agree, I have shown you reasonably firm sources of fact for my deductions as to what Voldemort did until the age of seventeen?” Annabeth nodded. “But now, Miss Chase, now things become murkier and stranger. If it was difficult to find evidence about the boy Riddle, it has been almost impossible to find anyone prepared to reminisce about the man Voldemort. In fact, I doubt whether there is a soul alive, apart from himself, who could give us a full account of his life since he left Hogwarts. This last memory came from a very old house-elf by the name of Hokey. Before we see what Hokey witnessed, I must quickly recount how Lord Voldemort left Hogwarts. He reached the seventh year of his schooling with, as you might have expected, top grades in every examination he had taken. All around him, his classmates were deciding which jobs they were to pursue once they had left Hogwarts. Nearly everybody expected spectacular things from Tom Riddle, prefect, Head Boy, winner of the Award for Special Services to the School. I know that several teachers suggested that he join the Ministry of Magic, offered to set up appointments, put him in touch with useful contacts. He refused all offers. The next thing the staff knew, Voldemort was working at Borgin and Burkes.”

“Where?” Annabeth didn’t know that store, not by name, anyway. But, the way Dumbledore said it... it sounded like some retail place. Riddle had - at least, for some time - worked someplace like a Gap, ringing up items for soccer moms? And not murdered anyone? That didn’t seem right.

“It’s a most peculiar store, specializing in the sale of rare artifacts. I hope you recall a Mr. Burke buying Slytherin’s locket off Merope? I think you will see what attractions the place held for him when we have entered Hokey’s memory. But, this was not Voldemort’s first choice of job. Hardly anyone knew of it at the time - I was one of the few in whom the then headmaster confided - but Voldemort first approached Professor Dippet, the previous Headmaster, and asked whether he could remain at Hogwarts as a teacher.”

“He wanted to stay here? Why?” Retail was one thing, but now this lord of evil and murder wanted to babysit a bunch of eleven-year-olds? 

“I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet. Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home. Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly, Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap. And thirdly, as a teacher, he would have had great power and influence over young witches and wizards. I do not imagine for an instant that Voldemort envisaged spending the rest of his life at Hogwarts, but I do think that he saw it as a useful recruiting ground, and a place where he might begin to build himself an army.”

“But, he didn’t get the job.”

“No, he did not. Professor Dippet told him that he was too young at eighteen, but invited him to reapply in a few years, if he still wished to teach. I felt deeply uneasy. I had advised Armando against the appointment - I did not give the reasons I have given you, for Professor Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty. But I did not want Lord Voldemort back at this school, and especially not in a position of power.”

“Which job did he want? What subject?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was being taught at the time by an old Professor by the name of Galatea Merrythought, who had been at Hogwarts for nearly fifty years. So, Voldemort went off to Borgin and Burkes, and all the staff who had admired him said what a waste it was, a brilliant young wizard like that, working in a shop. However, Voldemort was no mere assistant. Polite and handsome and clever, he was soon given particular jobs of the type that only exist in a place like Borgin and Burkes. Voldemort was sent to persuade people to part with their treasures for sale by the partners, and he was, by all accounts, unusually gifted at doing this. And now, it is time to hear from Hokey the house-elf, who worked for a very old, very rich witch by the name of Hepzibah Smith.”

Annabeth got to her feet. After Dumbledore had poured the memory in, she plunged her face into the Pensieve. Familiar darkness enveloped her, then dropped her off in an ornate sitting room. All around her, there were tables and shelves, full of trinkets that glittered in the light. With so many multicolored objects, it looked like a New York thrift shop. A fat old lady, wearing a ginger wig and flowy pink robes, stared at herself in a small, jeweled mirror. While she applied lipstick, a shriveled up, pointed ear - thing - adjusted satin slippers on her feet.

Clearly, Hepzibah had money.

“Hurry up, Hokey!” Hephzibah cried. “He said he’d come at four, it’s only a couple of minutes to and he’s never been late yet!” She closed her lipstick as the house-elf stood. “How do I look?”

_ Like melted cotton candy. _

“Lovely, madam,” squeaked Hokey. 

The doorbell rang, making both Hepzibah and Hokey jump. “Quick, quick, he’s here, Hokey!” The elf scurried out of the room, returning moments later with Riddle by her side. He looked older now, maybe Annabeth’s own age. In his black suit, he seemed dressed for a wedding - or funeral. “I brought you flowers,” he whispered, producing roses from thin air.

“You naughty boy, you shouldn’t have!” Hepzibah squealed, and placed them in an empty vase on the nearest little table. “You do spoil this old lady, Tom... Sit down, sit down... Where’s Hokey? Ah...” The house-elf appeared with a tray of tea cakes, hovering beside Hepzibah’s elbow. “Help yourself, Tom, I know how you love my cakes. Now, how are you? You look pale. They overwork you at that shop, I’ve said it a hundred times...” Riddle produced a mechanical smile, making Hepzibah giggle. “Well, what’s your excuse for visiting this time?”

“Mr. Burke would like to make an improved offer for the goblin-made armor. Five hundred Galleons, he feels it is a more than fair - ”

“Now, now, not so fast, or I’ll think you’re only here for my trinkets!”

“I am ordered here because of them. I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire - ”

“Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey! I’ve something to show you that I’ve never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won’t tell Mr. Burke I’ve got it? He’d never let me rest if he knew I’d shown it to you, and I’m not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom, you’ll appreciate it for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it.”

Riddle smiled, though its freezing warmth didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me.”

Hepzibah giggled again, and Annabeth cringed.

_ Lady, you’re at least seventy-five. Aren’t you a bit old to have a schoolgirl crush on a teenager? _

“I had Hokey bring it out for me... Hokey, where are you? I want to show Mr. Riddle our finest treasure... In fact, bring both, while you’re at it...”

“Here, madam,” Hokey squeaked. Two leather boxes, one on top of the other, moved across the room, blocking Hokey from view.

“Now,” Hepzibah continued, taking the boxes from the elf, “I think you’ll like this, Tom... Oh, if my family knew I was showing you... They can’t wait to get their hands on this!” She opened the lid, showing off a small, golden teacup with two handles. “I wonder whether you know what it is, Tom? Pick it up, have a good look!”

Riddle lifted the cup by one handle, a red gleam appearing in his dark eyes. “A badger. Then, this was...?”

“Helga Hufflepuff’s, as you very well know, you clever boy!” Hepzibah leaned forward and - did she seriously just pinch his cheek? “Didn’t I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down in the family for years and years. Lovely, isn’t it? And all sorts of powers it’s supposed to possess, too, but I haven’t tested them thoroughly, I just keep it nice and safe in here...” She took back the cup, placing it back in its box. She didn’t notice the shadow that crossed Riddle’s face as he parted from the artifact. “Now then, where’s Hokey? Oh yes, there you are - take that away now, Hokey.” The elf did so. “I think you’ll like this even more, Tom. Lean in a little, dear boy, so you can see... Of course, Burke knows I’ve got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay he’d love to get it back when I’m gone...”

She opened the box, and inside the red velvet lining was a heavy, golden locket… Merope’s locket. Riddle took it without Hepzibah’s permission, and held it up to the light. “Slytherin’s mark.”

“That’s right! I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn’t let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently, from a ragged-looking woman who seemed to have stolen it, but had no idea of its true value - ” Riddle’s eyes flashed red again. “ - I daresay Burke paid her a pittance, but there you are… Pretty, isn’t it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe...”

She reached out to take the locket back. For a second, Annabeth thought Riddle wasn’t going to let go of it. He finally did so, but only after staring at it for a long, final second. “So, there you are, Tom, dear, and I hope you enjoyed that!” She met his eyes for the first time, and her girlish smile faltered. “Are you all right, dear?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I’m very well...”

“I thought - but a trick of the light, I suppose - ” Hepzibah shifted in her seat; Annabeth guessed that she’d seen the red spark in Riddle’s eyes. “Here, Hokey, take these away and lock them up again... The usual enchantments...”

“Time to leave, Miss Chase,” Dumbledore murmured, Hokey scampering away with the boxes. Once she sat, Dumbledore began. “Hepzibah Smith died two days after that little scene. Hokey the house-elf was convicted by the Ministry of poisoning her mistress’s evening cocoa by accident.”

“That’s not… no! What?!”

“I see we are of one mind. Certainly, there are many similarities between this death and that of the Riddles. In both cases, somebody else took the blame, someone who had a clear memory of having caused the death - ”

“Hokey confessed?”

“She remembered putting something in her mistress’s cocoa that turned out not to be sugar, but a lethal and little-known poison. It was concluded that she had not meant to do it, but being old and confused - ”

“Riddle modified her memory, just like he did with Morfin!”

“Yes, that is my conclusion too. And, just as with Morfin, the Ministry was predisposed to suspect Hokey, because she was a house-elf. She was old, she admitted to having tampered with the drink, and nobody at the Ministry bothered to inquire further. As in the case of Morfin, by the time I traced her and managed to extract this memory, her life was almost over - but her memory, of course, proves nothing except that Voldemort knew of the existence of the cup and the locket. By the time Hokey was convicted, Hepzibah’s family had realized that two of her greatest treasures were missing. It took them a while to be sure of this, for she had many hiding places, having always guarded her collection most jealously. But, before they were sure beyond doubt that the cup and the locket were both gone, the assistant who had worked at Borgin and Burkes, the young man who had visited Hepzibah so regularly and charmed her so well, had resigned his post and vanished. His superiors had no idea where he had gone, they were as surprised as anyone at his disappearance. And that was the last that was seen or heard of Tom Riddle for a very long time.”

“So those are the horcruxes then? Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, and Marvolo’s ring. Those, plus the destroyed diary, makes four. That leaves three horcruxes unidentified, right?”

“Correct, Miss Chase. We can only guess where those objects are, or what they are.”

“Nico found a horcrux here at the school, in a wall. We’re trying to figure out exactly where it is, but so far we haven’t had any luck. Maybe… maybe now that I have an idea of what we’re looking for, I can get some help from camp.”

There was a twinkle in Dumbledore’s eye. “Then you best report to your friends and get on that.”

Annabeth stood, and began to exit. Then, she realized how rude she was being, and turned back to the headmaster. “Thank you, professor. You didn’t have to teach me.”

“It is the greatest honor of a teacher to teach a student with such intuition, daughter of Athena. Best of luck on your quest, I daresay it will not be easy. If I played a small part in that success, I am satisfied.”

Percy had fallen asleep against the gargoyle when Annabeth found him. “Percy!” she stage-whispered, jerking Percy awake.

“Wha - oh, sorry. It’s late.”

Annabeth couldn’t help but smile. Percy was so dumb sometimes. “Not a problem, seaweed brain. Is Nico here?”

“No. Blaise went to get him after dinner, said he hasn’t left his bed.”

“Well, if he’s not at breakfast tomorrow, I’m breaking into Slytherin house and getting Nico di Angelo’s ass out of bed myself. We finally have some leads, and we’ve got plenty of work to do.” She gave a brilliant smile, and extended her hand to help her idiot boyfriend up. She finally had a plan, and this one would be one hundred percent worthy of Athena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	14. Tonks Teaches Harry American Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy, Annabeth, and Nico prepare to go horcrux hunting; Harry, Hermione, and Ron attempt to uncover more about the Americans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teens and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing, Self-Harm, Mild Violence/Imagery  
> Word Count: 4543
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

For the first time since he and Will had fought, Nico slept. He woke in his room at Westover Hall, face down in the bed. “I can’t train today, Teddy,” Nico mumbled into the pillow, rolling over to fall back asleep. His body had no strength, his eyes stung from exhaustion, and his will had lost resolve from pure misery. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, nor slept. The last twenty-four hours consisted of lying in bed, debating the inevitable. He hadn't even the strength to cut.

“I know you're in no condition for combat, Nico,” Teddy said, his voice warm and gentle. He laid a caring hand on Nico’s shoulder, and Nico relaxed ever so slightly into the touch. “I just thought you needed a friend. What happened?”

What had happened? Nico knew the truth at his core, but he could never - would never - admit it. But Teddy... Teddy only existed in his dreams. It wasn't like he could tell anyone, he was an even safer confidant than Blaise. So, after a silent moment of debate, Nico uttered three words he'd never said to another living soul. “I’m in love."

“You are?" Teddy cried, not even attempting to hide the shock from his voice. "With who?”

“This guy back at home, Will Solace. We’re kinda - well, we’re dating… or, at least, we were. At this point, I don’t know anymore.” That was hard to admit, but it was still the truth. The fight had been small, but after a full day of silence... Nico was getting worried. It shouldn’t have taken Will this long to cool off, he was so easy going.

“Is that the issue?” Teddy asked. “You guys might break up?”

"No! Well, yes, actually... I mean, sort of..."

"What is it then?" Nico didn't answer. He couldn't answer. But Teddy didn't back down, only got more aggressive. "Nico! I know you're not telling me something. Just spit it out, I want to help you!"

“I can’t be in love, Teddy!” Nico snapped, angrily rising into a sitting position. “I just…  I can’t.”

"Oh." There was an awkward silence; a long moment passed before Teddy spoke again. "This is because of your cutting, isn't it?"

That got Nico to finally meet his friend’s eye. "How... you know about...?"

Teddy gave a small, apologetic smile. "I'm with you always, Nico. I do my best to give you your privacy, but I just... happened to be looking at the wrong moment and... well, I saw it. I didn't know how to bring it up - I mean, it's not like I can tell anyone, right?"

Another stunned silence fell over the room. Teddy knew about his cutting? And he still wanted to help Nico? Why?

_ He's doing this to save his parents, remember? He doesn't care who you are, just that you'll prevent his becoming an orphan. It doesn't matter that he knows you're a monster, as long as you do what he needs. He's the only one you can trust with anything, because, with him, what you are is more important than who you are. _

The thoughts came out of nowhere, but they made perfect sense. The anxiety Nico felt about his friend knowing his darkest secret faded at a rapid pace. Instead, trust bubbled in his stomach. Teddy would never leave him; his need for justice prevented that from happening. The realization made Nico want to open up more. He finally found someone who he could tell anything, and they wouldn't run. They wouldn't tell.

“ 'Course you can't tell anyone. But, yeah, that's it. Once Will finds out, he’ll dump my sorry ass and look for someone who isn’t a messed-up monster like me. I shouldn’t have let things get this far, anyway. I should've stopped things, but he's like a drug. Every time I see him, I just want more and more and I can't stop. I have to go cold turkey, now, while I still can... because it's better than waiting for the inevitable and getting the needle ripped out of my arm.”

Teddy walked over to Nico's bedside, and sat next to him. He studied him with piercing eyes, eyes full of conflicting emotions. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry, but I've never been in love before. I don't even know what it is, not really."

“It's putting someone before yourself.” Tears, hot and pounding, bit at Nico's eyes. "That's why I have to break things off with Will. He doesn't deserve me, or my baggage. Everyone I love dies, Teddy. My mom, my sister… for Hades’ sake, Percy almost died in Tartarus! If I hadn’t given him up and let him go, I bet he would've died too. I don’t know if I got cursed by Aphrodite, or if this is because of what I did to Eros, or something else, but..." Nico took a shuddered breath, trying to pull himself together. "I’m not going to let anything happen to him. I won’t let anyone touch him. He's my drug, and I can't let myself get addicted. It'll kill both of us.”

Teddy put a hand on Nico's arm and squeezed. "Nico, you don't know that for sure."

“I can’t risk it. On a quest like this, with an enemy like Riddle, any vulnerability ends in a trip to Hades. I overcame my fatal flaw when I was twelve, and that's why Father picked me for this mission. The worst thing I can possibly do is make myself a new one. I know love can be a strength; Percy and Annabeth proved that in Tartarus. But that’s only for certain people, and with a life like mine, it's a weakness. I made up my mind earlier today. I'm breaking up with him over December break. That's the first time I'll see him in person, and I can't do this over IM.”

Teddy nodded. “If you know what you have to do, then do it. I'm just sorry it's causing you pain. You get some sleep, I'll keep the nightmares away.” 

Nico laid down in his bed as Teddy stood. He rolled over towards the wall, and shut his eyes to sleep.

_ Thank the gods I finally have someone who understands me. _

When he woke later, Blaise sat next to him, with a large plate of breakfast. “You’re eating this entire thing, Nico. I don’t care what happened with Will, you’re not wasting away. And I’m not covering for you in class today either. Besides, Annabeth Chase wants to talk to you about something important.” 

Nico managed a groan, half-asleep. “Sure, I guess.” His talk with Teddy had helped a lot. Of course, it still killed him that that he’d have to end the best thing that ever happened to him, but he had time. Christmas was still two months away. As long as he was careful, as long as he kept his feelings in check, things would be all right. That's what he'd done with Hazel, and she was fine, more or less.

“Wait... that worked?” Blaise asked in surprise.

“Yeah.” Nico grabbed a home fry from the plate. “It’s not doing me any favors, staying here, right?”

Blaise smiled. “Then come on, Hestia wants to see you. I’m warning you, she’s going to ask what happened. Don’t worry,” he added hurriedly as he saw the look of horror spread across Nico’s face. "I didn’t tell her about Will, but she does know something’s up.”

Nico pulled the sheets off his body and stood, a little shaky on his feet. He dressed, then followed Blaise into the Slytherin common room, where Hestia waited. 

“Nico!” she cried, attacking him with a hug. “God - how are you? What happened? Are you ok?”

Nico managed a small smile, and pushed her off. “You know I don’t like people touching me, Hestia. And yeah, I’m fine, I just needed some time off. No big deal.”

“No big deal?!” Hestia protested, but Blaise waved his hand to silence her yelling.

“We’re going to be late for History of Magic if we don’t hurry up to class.” He ushered Nico and Hestia to the portal door, and tried to change the subject, but Hestia bombarded him with questions anyway.

When they arrived at the classroom, Nico took his usual spot in the back. Binnes hadn't shown up yet, but he would soon. The ghostly professor was afraid of Nico because of his father. He likely assumed that Hades would drag his soul back to the Underworld if he got the chance. However, Hecate's realm worked a bit different than the rest of the world, both Nico and Hades knew that. Her followers could choose to remain on the Earth plane or go to the Underworld, as long as their judgment in Erebos didn't put them in Punishment. If they gained the council's approval to haunt Hecate's corner of the Earth, they became her immortal problem, not Hades'. They struck that deal after Persephone's abduction. Hecate helped Demeter find her daughter, so Hades punished the goddess with living dead. The curse didn't exactly bother Hecate much, but it still stuck. 

Even with that insurance, Binnes (and the other ghosts) freaked out when Nico came too close. They gave him a little too much respect, and coupled with the constant nervous glances, it was just easier to avoid them when he could, instead of explaining the nuances of the afterlife.

Binnes arrived, and class began. As the lecture droned on, Nico practiced his shadow shield in the palm of his hand, shielded from prying eyes under the desk. At first, he had to murmur “protect me” under his breath, but by the end of the period, he could do it without saying a word. He’d mastered the new power quickly, with any luck he’d learn a new skill that night.

Herbology was next, then Charms, then lunch. Nico was starving, but Annabeth wanted to talk to him about the quest, like Blaise said that morning. So, instead of stuffing his face, he found Percy at the Gryffindor table. The son of Poseidon was laughing at something his friend said, one of Ron's twin brothers by the looks of him. Mid-laugh, Percy noticed Nico's approach, and waved him over, bright-eyed and grinning.

“Nico! Where have you been? How are you? Blaise said something happened and - ”

“I’m fine.” Nico said, cutting him off; he didn't want to discuss his previous day any more than he had to. “Annabeth wanted to talk to me?”

Percy nodded. He told the twins he'd be right back, then walked into the empty corridor with Nico. “You’re not getting out of telling me what happened,” Percy teased. “I’ll get it out of you one day…”

“Only when I’m in Hades,” Nico vowed, making Percy laugh. They reached Annabeth, locked in conversation with an IM Grover. He had his reed pipes in hand, and stared at a spot on the ground, just outside the IM's image.

“Are you sure?” Annabeth asked him.

“That’s what the acorns say,” Grover replied. “But I can’t be entirely sure. I’m sorry about the last one, Annabeth. It must be guarded against nature magic.”

Annabeth brushed the apology off. “We found two, thanks to you. Thanks for the help, goat boy.”

“Good luck,” Grover said. “I have the feeling you’ll need it.” Annabeth waved at the mist, and the satyr's image dissolved. Seeing them out of the corner of her eye, Annabeth turned towards Nico and Percy. She glanced at the son of Hades with... reserve? Why would she do that? Maybe it was just a trick of the light, because the wariness in her eyes disappeared the next second. “Hey, Nico. You got out of bed ok?”

Still a little on guard, Nico turned to his favorite defense: sarcasm. “As opposed to not getting out of bed ok?”

Annabeth returned his attitude with a knowing smile. “Exactly.”

Nico scoffed, then decided to move things along. “What was that Iris Message about? What couldn’t Grover find? What was he looking for?”

“Dumbledore showed me three horcruxes: Hufflepuff’s cup, Slytherin’s locket, and Marvolo’s ring. Grover found the cup in London - it looked like a vault in Gringotts. The ring is still in Little Hangleton, Marvolo's hometown. Maybe in his hovel, I don't know, but Grover couldn't get that specific. He couldn’t target the locket either - ”

“Because Riddle guarded it with his own magic somehow,” Nico concluded. “So we know about those two, plus the one here?”

“Yeah,” Percy confirmed. “Though that could be the locket. Again, we don’t know."

"Well, let's tell him what we do know," Annabeth reminded him. "I talked to Dumbledore this morning, and he gave us permission to leave the school.”

“But how are we going to do that without Umbridge finding out?" Nico questioned. "You said it yourself, the Ministry shouldn't know what we’re doing, or who we are.”

Annabeth gave another winning smile. “Meet me right here at midnight, and don’t get caught by any of the teachers. Just leave the rest to me... Athena always has a plan.”

**____________________RON____________________**

 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood motionless for minutes after the Americans left. They didn't dare step into a shadow, nor make one of their own, while di Angelo could still be lurking around. After Harry had seen the Slytherin leave the Great Hall with Jackson, they’d all followed. Sirius had told them to keep an eye on the Americans, and, as much as Ron didn't want to nose into a teammate's business, he trusted Sirius. Ron liked Jackson. He was fun and had a good sense of humor; Ron had hoped that chasing after him would clear his name. But, after what they'd overheard, Jackson had just incriminated himself. At least, that's what Harry seemed to think, judging by his facial expression. 

After a solid ten minutes posing as statues behind in an empty classroom, Hermione began to pace. “This is not good.”

Ron shot her a look. “Gee, Hermione, I would’ve never guessed if you hadn’t said so!”

Harry leaned against the wall, arms folded. “What are we going to do?”

“What can we do?” Hermione's eyes were wild with hopeless fear. “We know di Angelo can do powerful, wandless, dark magic! And Dumbledore clearly doesn’t think anything’s wrong, so we can’t go to him.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Ron put in, “But I hope Umbridge finds out about them.”

“Should we go to her?” Hermione asked. 

Harry shook his head. “She hates us, especially me. She’d never believe me, even if she’s a little suspicious of di Angelo from the boggart. Besides, what are we going to tell her? The new American exchange students are working for Voldemort? She doesn’t even think he’s back, she’ll just think we’re ‘spreading nasty, attention-seeking rumors’.”

“Didn’t Snuffles say to keep an eye on di Angelo? Maybe we could talk with him, get the Order involved.” At Ron's suggestion, Hermione’s eyes lit up. She hugged him on instinct, sending him reeling.

“That’s it, Ron!” she cried. She darted out of the classroom, leaving a stunned Harry and Ron to exchange a glance, then follow. They ended up following her all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, where she told them to wait. After a quick trip to her dorm, she produced a small box of Floo Powder. “A letter will never make it in time,” she explained, breathless. “I brought some of this with me from Grimmauld Place, just in case.”

“Hermione, that’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed. He grabbed the powder from her, and threw it into the fire. “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!” Together, he, Ron, and Hermione jumped into the emerald flames before anyone walked in on them.

When they arrived in Grimmauld Place's kitchen fireplace, they weren't alone. Sirius and Tonks sat in deep conversation at the kitchen table, tea growing cold beside them. When they heard the whoosh of the flames, they turned, standing with wands raised for battle.

“Harry! Ron! Hermione! What are you doing here?” Sirius questioned, sitting back down and lowering his wand. Half a second later, Tonks did the same.

“You said to let you know if something’s going on,” Harry answered. “And we just found out something big.”

Harry then went on to explain the conversation they'd overheard. Sirius and Tonks listening, their grim expressions never letting up. When he concluded his story, Sirius stood again, turning back to Tonks. “That settles it, we have to follow them.”

“Sirius, sit down!” Tonks exclaimed, exasperated. “Dumbledore said you can’t leave the house.”

“We can’t sit back and do nothing!” Sirius protested. “I don’t know what these ‘horcruxes’ are, but we've got more than enough evidence to support that those kids aren’t all they seem.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I did some digging into their pasts,” Tonks began. “I couldn't look into their wizarding school - the American Ministry's all over the place. I'm working on it, but doing this without raising eyebrows takes time. I did unseal their muggle records, and it's something. Jackson rarely got through a school year without expulsion. He's been to ten schools - kicked out of every one until ninth grade. He kept his nose clean at his former high school - Goode in Manhattan - which he graduated last June. Chase is the same, kicked out of every school except her high school, which she graduated last June. Except, she took four years off from school from ages eight to twelve. There's no record of what happened between those years, not even in family records. Neither one has both parents on their birth certificates; Jackson's fatherless, Chase motherless.”

“And that’s not even touching di Angelo,” Sirius continued. “He has no parents, no schools except for a military academy he attended at age ten, Westover Hall. No birth certificate, no legal guardians, no family on record. There's no paperwork stating he was ever put in foster care, nor any record of a court case to do with him. No house, no photographs, no mention of him or any of his family… it’s like someone wiped him from time itself.”

"Wouldn't all that stuff just be in the American Ministry, so the muggles don't find it?" Ron asked.

Tonks shook her head. "Not how it works over there, Ron. We had to learn about their culture in Ministry training, in case we ever had to deal with them. It's complicated, but I'll try to explain without confusing you. America's got five times as many people in the country as us, so they can't have one tiny ministry controlling everything the way we can. They rely on the muggle government system to keep track of everyone's records, since they're regulated on a city and state level anyway. The American Ministry just focuses on maintaining the Statute of Secrecy at all costs. American wizards tend to live among muggles a lot more, because wizards are so scattered across the country. That's why Jackson and Chase have muggle diplomas along with wizard ones - they had to attend both high schools by law. The fact that di Angelo has nothing in New York or Washington means that he has nothing, period."

“How is that possible?!” Hermione cried. “I mean… how could there be nothing?”

“Exactly what we want to find out,” Sirius said. “Which brings me back to my point, Tonks. Someone has to figure out what those kids are doing at Hogwarts, who they are, and what they want. If Dumbledore knows anything about horcruxes, he’s not saying. Why he would let them into the school, and let them go off on their own is a mystery - ”

“Wait!” Ron yelled, a horrible thought dawning on him. “Do you think… I don’t know, maybe Dumbledore’s under the Imperius curse?”

Everyone stared at Ron, but all he could see was Hermione's face, drenched in pure terror. “He can’t be,” she whispered.

“If he were,” Sirius assured her, “Then the death eaters would be here. He’s our Secret-Keeper. Voldemort wouldn’t waste time letting three kids go off on their own, no matter who they are. He'd try and find the stronghold for the Order, and bring us down from the inside out. Whether Dumbledore fell for a trick by the Death Eaters is a different story. But even that's unlikely; Dumbledore's never fallen prey to Lord Voldemort before.”

“We should still keep this from him,” Tonks decided. “At least, until we know more. If Dumbledore believes the Americans aren't Death Eaters, it’ll take a lot of evidence to convince him otherwise. He's almost always right, so he won't easily change his mind and think he's wrong.”

“What if he isn’t?” Hermione reasoned. “I know how it looks, but what if Dumbledore has a reason to trust them? Something he’s keeping from us?”

“Even Dumbledore can make mistakes,” Sirius reminded her. “He’s said it himself, when he does make mistakes, they’re big. Really big. I don’t feel comfortable not knowing what those kids are up to, or at least what side they’re on. If Dumbledore trusts them, I can too, once I get rid of my doubts.”

“I’ll tail them,” Tonks decided, rising from the table. Sirius rose too, and opened his mouth to argue, but Tonks cut him off. “Sirius, you can’t leave this house, under Dumbledore’s orders. I’ll tell you everything I know, but you can’t come with me.” She turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “And you need to get back to school before anyone notices you’re gone.”

This time, it was Harry who looked betrayed. “What, no thanks for uncovering three death eaters at Hogwarts?!”

“Thank you, but she’s right.” Though Sirius's voice sounded controlled, frustration lurked in the background, aimed at Tonks. “Go back to the Gryffindor common room, your afternoon classes will be starting soon. Leave the Americans to us.”

Ron blinked, and they stood by Gryffindor's fire again. “‘Leave the Americans to us’?!” Harry yelled in frustration the second they were back at Hogwarts. “After everything we’ve done?! After everything di Angelo did?! What does it matter to them that he attacked me?! That he almost killed half a dozen people?! No, they’re safe in their little - ”

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, cutting him off. “Stop it! They’re just trying to keep you safe!”

“She’s right, mate,” Ron agreed, attempting damage control. “Harry, the last time you went against di Angelo, it didn’t go well. Let the Order deal with him; he’s still just a student. He can't go against Tonks - a trained Auror - and win for long.”

Harry looked more furious than ever. “Fine!” he said through gritted teeth. “But I’m not going to stop until di Angelo’s brought to justice.”

He stormed out of the portrait hole, leaving Ron and Hermione alone. “He’ll be fine,” Ron assured Hermione, because she’d started to look anxious. “He just needs to cool down. You know how much he hates di Angelo, he’ll be fine.”

“I just hope he doesn’t do something rash,” Hermione said, and Ron silently agreed with her.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

 

Fred and George stood from their latest project: disappearing hats. “All right, we're calling it a night," George decided. "You coming, Percy?” It was about eleven-thirty, but Percy was wide awake with adrenaline. The common room was almost empty, thank the gods. Besides himself and the twins, only Harry Potter remained, reading his Divination textbook.

“I’ve got an Arithmancy essay to finish," Percy replied. "I’ll see you guys in the morning.” 

Time ticked by, but Harry didn’t go back into his dorm. Soon twenty minutes passed, and Harry was still reading. “Hey man," Percy said, trying to gauge how much longer he'd be. "You tired yet?”

“No.” Harry didn't even look up from his reading.

“Oh,” Percy mumbled. He waited a few seconds, then tried again. “Shoot, I left my, um, quill in the library. Can you cover for me while I get it?”

“Wait until the morning, the library’s locked up.” 

Percy gritted his teeth in frustration; he needed to meet Annabeth and Nico in the entrance hall. “I’m just going to go now. Just - cover for me - ok?”

Percy rose, but Harry did too, blocking Percy’s path to the door and drawing himself up as tall as he could. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, voice hostile. “I know what you’re going to do. I can’t stop Chase or di Angelo, but I can stop you. You go and meet them, and I’ll tell McGonagall all about the Lares.” Percy swallowed hard. This was not good. “Yeah, I know all about them, and I can guess why you do. You’re staying right here, Jackson.”

“No wonder you get on Nico’s nerves,” Percy spat. “You never mind your own damn business, do you?”

“Not when it comes to things like this.”

“Fine.” Percy started to back away from Harry, moving towards the door. “Tell McGonagall, see if she believes you.” Harry reached for his wand, so Percy gripped Riptide, ready to uncap it if he had to. “You don’t want to curse me, Harry.”

“No, I don’t, but I have to.  _ Stu _ \- ” 

Before Harry could finish the spell, Percy dove for cover. He crouched under one of the armchairs by the fire, just in time. Red light soared just over his head, missing him by a fraction of an inch. 

_ Shit.  _

He looked at the time, five minutes to midnight. It would take him at fifteen to cross the castle, he had to get out of here fast. Without any other option, Percy uncapped Riptide, bronze light filling the room. He stood from his hiding spot, smiling at the stun on Harry's face. “I’m going to back away, if you try and curse me you’ll be sorry, understand?” Without waiting for a response, Percy backing towards the exit again. 

_ This is actually working? I was sure he was going to - _

“ _ Expelliarmus _ !” The spell caught Percy off-guard, hitting the center of the blade. Riptide jerked forward, but Percy held on with an iron grip. After a few seconds of struggle, Riptide stopped fighting to drop. A stunned silence filled the room. “How did you - ” 

Taking advantage of the mutual shock, Percy fled from the common room. He didn't slow until he was far from Harry, and sure that the other Gryffindor wasn't tailing him. Fifteen minutes later, Percy jogged into the entrance hall, panting.

“Where have you been?” Nico demanded. “We’ve been here twenty minutes, waiting!”

“Sorry,” Percy apologized, trying to catch his breath. “Harry wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Nico’s jaw clenched. “That stupid - ”

“Now’s not the time,” Annabeth interrupted. “I forged a note from the American Ministry for Dumbledore to give to Umbridge. It gives us some time off from school. Chiron said he’d manipulate the mist, so if Umbridge checks it out, it would seem legit. All we have to do is shadow travel to Little Hangleton, and we’re home free.”

Percy stared at her in awe. “When did you have time to do all this?”

Annabeth shook her head, both amused and flattered. “I’ve been planning this a while. I wasn’t just going to wing it. Now let’s get going.” 

Nico took Percy and Annabeth’s hands in his. Together, they ran into the nearest wall, dissolving a second before they crashed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week... horcrux hunting begins!
> 
> Also, like my explanation of the American Ministry? As a New Englander myself, I like making stuff up about my own personal Wizarding World...
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	15. The Scavenger Hunt of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy, Annabeth, and Nico begin their hunt for Tom Riddle's horcruxes in the former home of Marvolo Gaunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing, Self-Harm, Mild Violence/Imagery  
> Word Count: 4520
> 
>  
> 
> Make sure to read my end notes for a special surprise!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

** ____________________NICO____________________ **

 

****

Little Hangleton, nestled in the valley of two grassy hills, actually looked like a decent place to live. Paved roads, complete with little cars driving on the wrong side of the road, ran all through town. Stone townhouses lined the bustling streets; trees with golden, autumn leaves dotted their front lawns. It made Nico think of May Castellan's house in Connecticut, which had the same paradisiacal aura.

“This way,” Annabeth directed, after letting Percy and Nico stare at the village. “I remember the road from Dumbledore, except it was still dirt in the memory.”

So, they both followed Annabeth's confident stride, until they reached the old horse trail. Near the overgrown path, they found the ruined remains of the Gaunt's hovel. “There’s no way the horcrux is here,” Percy said. “There aren’t any defenses.”

“Let’s take a look anyway,” Annabeth replied. “It would be stupid not to be sure. I’m just warning you, it’s going to be filthy.”

Without Annabeth’s warning, Nico would’ve gagged the second he entered. Inside, the entire place resembled a Cyclops's cave. The walls seemed as though they were painted with dirt and grime. Black ash piled at the fireplace, dust completely filled the sink, and the smell of rotting food wafted from the kitchen area. It wasn't every day Nico got to smell food as old as him.

_ Guess who gets to add another thing to his "I regret ever thinking this wasn't a terrible idea" list? _

“Oh gross!” Percy yelled, and Nico turned to see him shaking a dead snake off his shoulder.

Annabeth gave him a sideways glance, rolling her eyes. “I told you about that snake, seaweed brain. It’s your own fault for not listening to me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Percy shrugged her off, still focused on wiping the snake off his shoulder. “Let’s take a look around and get out of here, okay? I don’t want rats climbing up my legs or anything.”

“We'll split up,” Annabeth decided. “I’ll take this room. Percy, you go back outside and look around. Nico, check the smaller rooms. here are doors over there.”

Nico followed her gaze to two doors, the same color as the walls. “I thought I was the leader here,” he mumbled under his breath, but he moved towards the doors all the same. Without Annabeth's initiative, they wouldn't have any leads. He'd let her take control... for now, anyway.

Room number one turned out to be a bedroom, still filthy enough to match the rest of the hovel. Three rusted, iron bed frames sat to the left of the door, where the room extended. Pieces of all three had fallen to the floor, and piles of rust flakes collected around them. The bedding Nico assumed had once been there was long gone; most of the mattresses were also missing as well. The ones that remained were riddled with holes from termites and were crawling with other insectae. Nico gagged and turned, but his eyes fell on something worse.

A pile of wizarding robes, dozens strong, laid under a single, filthy window. More flies buzzed around, darting in and out of the compost clothing pile. Nico coughed and covered his face with his hand to try and offset the smell. It didn't work.

After a nice game of “pick-your-poison”, Nico started searching the beds. He used his sword to sweep some of the insects off, and then searched through the remaining mattress fluff for Marvolo's ring. Nothing. After looking through all three, he forced himself to crawl under the rotting bed frames and search the dusty ground. Not so much as a hint of a horcrux.

He wriggled back out and moved to the clothing pile. One hand still clasped to his mouth and nose, he kneeled beside the robes. With the help of the dying sunlight, Nico noticed a dark glimmer, like the ring's stone. Sure, he couldn't sense a horcrux, but that might be because he was too busy recoiling at how much insect feces he'd just crawled in. Nico poked his sword in the shimmer's general direction, but couldn't fish anything out.

With a deep breath, Nico plunged his hand into the clothing pile. A thousand tiny spider legs climbed up his lower arm, but he eventually found the - black button. What a climax.

_ Holy Hera, just kill me now. _

“Any luck?” Annabeth asked as Nico walked to room number two.

Nico resisted the urge to glare at her for sending him in there. “If you call needing to amputate my arm luck, then yes.”

Room number two was a bathroom. The floor was an actual dirt floor, loose enough that Nico felt himself sinking. A hole in the ground consisted of the toilet, and the smell of...

_ Nope. Not thinking about that. That's just the smell of the ground. That's all.   _

A small sink was the only thing that had any kind of plumbing. It looked pretty standard, just  grime. A basin sat next to the door, with a single rag inside of it for bathing.

The basin looked the least horrible, so Nico checked that out first. It was empty, like he thought. The sink too looked devoid of horcruxes, so it was time to look at the -

_ I should check out the sink's plumbing first. Perfectly reasonable place to hide a ring. Not procrastinating or anything, promise. _

With a little too much care, Nico used his sword to cut the weakest pipe, which, due to its rust, cut like butter. Some coppery water leaked out, but no ring.

_ Why do I always get stuck with the crappiest jobs? _

After forcing a laugh at his own pun, Nico dragged his feet to the hole. After debating what to do, he squeezed his eyes shut, and plunged the tip of his sword into the sludge. Thank the gods, the tip hit the bottom before the sludge covered more than half of the sword. When the poking around didn't hit anything, Nico figured that was a pretty thorough search.

Now to clean the sword. Nico grabbed the rag from the basin, and held his sword over the hole, sludge dripping from its point. After folding the rag as thickly as he could, he swiped the dripping slosh back into the toilet. Thankfully, nothing got on him or his clothing, but his sword still smelled like actual shit.

Nico walked back into the main room, meeting Annabeth's hopeful gaze with a shake of the head. “Percy! Can you wash my sword off?!” Nico called out the door.

“I’m not a human plumbing service, di Angelo!” came the response. Annabeth cracked a smile, but not Nico. What was the point of having a super powerful son of the sea god as a friend if he didn’t do you favors once in awhile?

“Screw you!” Nico called back.

“Nothing’s here either,” Annabeth interrupted, breaking up the little love fest. “At least, not that I can find. Can you sense anything, Nico?”

Nico focused for a second, then said, “No. I doubt the ring's here."

Percy strolled inside the house. “I’m with you there.”  His hands gleamed from water, and of course he wasn't above using his shower power on  _ himself _ . Nico shot him a look, but he snarkily winked back, so Nico pretended to gag.

“Would you guys stop flirting and focus?” Annabeth asked, impatient.

“Stop teasing, Annabeth,” Percy smirked. “We all know I’m not his type.”

“Would you let that go?” Nico cried, widening his eyes in mock exasperation. They all burst into laughter, doubling over and gasping for air. The last few weeks had been a stressful nightmare with the quest and all it entailed, and despite the pressure, it was nice to crack up and have a good laugh. Besides, it was two in the morning, and they hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. It was good to be back together, doing something that felt productive for once.

After they finished busting a gut, exhaustion quickly set in, and hung over them like fog. None of them were desperate enough to sleep in the hovel, so they went to look for a motel instead. They didn't have much other use for mortal money, anyway.

They walked back down the road to the city in the valley, discussing possible locations for the ring. The moment they stepped into their motel room in Little Hangleton, Annabeth collapsed into an armchair; it was anyone's guess whether she'd fallen asleep or fainted. Percy cracked a half-smile, then picked her up in gentle arms, placing her on the nearby bed.

Nico glanced at his feet, feeling a bit like an intruder on such a tender moment. He broke the silence first. “Get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

“First watch?” Percy asked.

“We’re not protected by Hogwarts's defenses anymore. Monsters could attack - I just want to be as careful as possible. Besides, I’m not tired.”

That was a complete lie, but Nico needed some time alone. With his companions both asleep, he could finally send an IM to Will and sort out that stupid fight. He had two months left to call Will his boyfriend, he wasn't going to let some ridiculous sense of vanity ruin that. Will would hate him by January; the least Nico could do was give him some kind of happiness until then.

_ Return the favor. _

“I guess you’re right,” Percy decided, drawing Nico out of his thoughts. “But wake me up in a few hours. You need rest, too.”

“I know,” Nico assured him. “Now go to sleep before you pull an Annabeth.”

“Hey!" Percy teased. "She’s still my girlfriend.”

“And I’m your cousin," Nico retorted. "Which means I get to make fun of her and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

By that point, Percy's eyes had already shut. There was only one bed, so he and Annabeth were sleeping together, his arm around her waist. Nico smiled, just a tiny quirk of his lips. Despite his history with Percy, it made him happy to see them together. He did care about Percy a lot, but just not in the way he used to. He was a good friend; maybe Nico could even consider him a brother of some kind.

_ But he doesn’t know who you really are. How many secrets are you keeping from him, from all your so-called friends? _

Nico ignored that little voice in his head. He stepped into the bathroom, and made a rainbow in the shower. “O Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering. Will Solace at Camp Half-Blood.” he said, crossing his fingers.

_ Come on, Will. Please answer. _

The image appeared. Will sat on a cot in the Big House infirmary, staring into space. Nico didn’t dare make a sound, he just stood and watched his boyfriend for a little while, drinking in his image. It had only been a few days since they’d last spoken, but Nico’s memory couldn’t recall his handsome features; blond hair fell into sky blue eyes, and his smile  rivaled the sun. A small smile of his own appeared on Nico’s face, a soft one, full of love and of hope.

He hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. Not since Bianca.

“Hey,” he breathed. Will turned.

The wait was agony. Will’s face wasn’t mad, but it wasn’t happy either. It was indifferent, a little tired, like he’d been up for days and couldn’t comprehend how exhausted he was. He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at Nico with those bright blue eyes, raking his gaze across Nico’s body. Wherever Will's gaze hit him, Nico felt a little warmer.

“Are you going to say anything?” Nico asked, his voice was full of desperation. “Will, please say something. I’m so, so, so sorry.” Will still didn’t respond. “Please, Will. I was such an idiot before, you were completely right to call me out, just please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything.” By the end of his monologue, he felt close to tears.

“That’s not exactly healthy,” Will replied, voice and face both noncommittal.

“Always the doctor, thinking about my health,” Nico said, eyes and voice shining with desperate hope.

“I miss you too,” Will admitted. Nico’s heart soared, did a somersault out of pure happiness, then went back to where it belonged, beating twice as fast as before. He breathed a sigh of relief and cracked a huge smile at the exact same time. He wanted to cry out in pure joy, but he wasn’t going to act like that in front of Will; he was vulnerable enough as it was.

“Do you forgive me? For acting like, I dunno…”

“An asshole?” Will suggested.

Nico cracked another smile. “That sums it up, yeah.”

“ 'Course.” Will said that like it was obvious, then gave Nico a sideways glance. “You didn’t think I’d let something this stupid break us up, right? I’m not that petty.”

“I know,” Nico assured him. “I just got nervous.”

“It’s our first fight, Neeks, it happens. Just - don’t act like that anymore, 'kay?”

“'Kay,” Nico replied happily, forgetting to reprimand Will for using that stupid nickname. They talked and talked, joking and laughing and teasing like nothing had happened. It only ended when the conch horn sounded on Will’s end, announcing curfew.

“I gotta close up, Neeks. You should sleep too, you look awful.”

“That’s what horcrux hunting does to you. And don’t call me Neeks.”

Will laughed, then waved his hand through the mist, breaking the connection. Nico turned off the water, then checked the time: four AM.

_ Gods, I've been talking to Will for an hour and a half?! _

After drying the bathroom a bit from the shower's water leakage, Nico found Percy and shook him awake.

“Mmmmm,” Percy mumbled, adjusting his head against Annabeth’s back.

“Wake up, Jackson,” Nico said. “I’ve been up almost twenty-four hours, the least you can do is let me sleep.”

Percy only seemed to catch a single word. “Sleep,” he mumbled, arms still around Annabeth. Nico sighed and went back into the bathroom, grabbed a paper cup from under the sink, and filled it up with water.

“Percy,” he sang. “Get up...”

Percy, sensing the water, opened one eye to stare at Nico. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Nico smiled darkly and began to ominously tip the water over Percy’s head. Percy held up a hand and the water stopped in midair, hovering over his and Annabeth’s faces. “You up?” Nico asked.

“I’m up,” Percy grunted. Then, realizing the water wouldn't wet him anyway, let it splash over his head. “You cunning little jerk,” he whined, then stretched. “Get some sleep, you bastard.”

“Thanks.” Nico gave a teasing smile, then laid next to Annabeth on the bed. The moment his eyes closed, he fell asleep.

Teddy met him in his dorm room, but didn't teach him a new skill. Instead, he discussed the quest with Nico, saying that it was more important. "Besides," Teddy continued, "Something's off. I can sense something, I just don’t know what. Just... be careful, okay, Nico? Something’s going to happen, I know it.”

“I’ll be alright," Nico promised. "I’ve got Percy and Annabeth to help me if something goes wrong."

“You know in battle there’s only yourself,” Teddy reminded him. “You can’t count on others to keep you from getting your ass whupped; you never know what'll happen in the heat of a fight. Prepare yourself, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Ok," Nico agreed, lying down to sleep, for real this time. "I'll keep an eye out, Teddy. I promise."

Dreams found Nico in a second. He stood in a long hallway, light flickering from a crackling fire, shining through the crack of an open door. Nico had little time to notice that detail until he heard a timid voice speak.

“There is a little more in the bottle, My Lord, if you are still hungry.”

Though the voice sounded like it came from a grown man, it possessed an element of fear. It reminded Nico of a servant talking to Kronos, or Gaea, or even his own father, Hades.

“Later.” It was a high-pitched voice, raspy, cold, and cruel. “Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail."

Nico stepped towards the voices. He saw an old man in the hall for the first time, with his ear pressed against the door.

“Where is Nagini?”

“I - I don't know, My Lord. She set out to explore the house, I think…”

“You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail. I will need feeding in the night. The journey has tired me greatly.”

“My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?”

“A week, perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over.”

“The - the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord? Forgive me, but - I do not understand - why should we wait until the World Cup is over?”

“Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities. They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything. So we wait.”

“Your Lordship is still determined, then?”

“Certainly I am determined, Wormtail.”

There was a deafening pause. With the introduction of Quidditch, Nico knew who they were. Wizards, sure, but he'd recognize that cruel voice anywhere. He'd spoken with that voice, laughed with that laugh, killed with those hands. He was listening to the plottings of Tom Riddle and a terrified servant.

“It could be done without Harry Potter, My Lord.”

There was another pause, this one heavier as Nico waited for the next words. He had a million questions racing through his mind, all vital to the quest. Do what? When? Harry Potter? Why?

“Without Harry Potter?” Riddle asked. “I see…”

“My Lord, I do not say this out of concern for the boy!” Wormtail squeaked. “The boy is nothing to me, nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard - any wizard - the thing could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while - you know that I can disguise myself most effectively - I could be back here in as little as two days with a suitable person - ”

“I could use another wizard,” Riddle whispered, “That is true…”

“My Lord, it makes sense. Laying hands on Harry Potter would be so difficult, he is so well protected - ”

“And so you volunteer to go and fetch me a substitute? I wonder… perhaps the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you, Wormtail? Could this suggestion of abandoning the plan be nothing more than an attempt to desert me?”

“My Lord! I - I have no wish to leave you, none at all - "

“Do not lie to me!” Riddle hissed. “I can always tell, Wormtail! You are regretting that you ever returned to me. I revolt you. I see you flinch when you look at me, feel you shudder when you touch me…”

“No! My devotion to Your Lordship - ”

“Your devotion is nothing more than cowardice. You would not be here if you had anywhere else to go. How am I to survive without you, when I need feeding every few hours? Who is to milk Nagini?”

“But you seem so much stronger, My Lord - ”

“Liar. I am no stronger, and a few days alone would be enough to rob me of the little health I have regained under your clumsy care." Wormtail started to babble incoherently. "Silence! I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail - courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldemort's wrath - ”

With his identity now confirmed, Nico inched towards the door, desperate for a glimpse of his enemy. But, that stupid old man got in the way, also peaking through the crack in the door.

“My Lord, I must speak!” Wormtail cried. "All through our journey I have gone over the plan in my head - My Lord, Bertha Jorkins’s disappearance will not go unnoticed for long, and if we proceed, if I murder -"

“If?” Riddle questioned. “If? If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry need never know that anyone else has died. You will do it quietly and without fuss; I only wish that I could do it myself, but in my present condition… Come, Wormtail, one more death and our path to Harry Potter is clear. I am not asking you to do it alone. By that time, my faithful servant will have rejoined us - ”

“I am a faithful servant.”

“Wormtail, I need somebody with brains, somebody whose loyalty has never wavered, and you, unfortunately, fulfill neither requirement.”

“I found you. I was the one who found you. I brought you Bertha Jorkins.”

“That is true. A stroke of brilliance I would not have thought possible from you, Wormtail - though, if truth be told, you were not aware how useful she would be when you caught her, were you?”

“I - I thought she might be useful, My Lord - ”

“Liar. However, I do not deny that her information was invaluable. Without it, I could never have formed our plan, and for that, you will have your reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform an essential task for me, one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform…”

“R- really, My Lord? What - ?”

“Ah, Wormtail, you don't want me to spoil the surprise? Your part will come at the very end...but I promise you, you will have the honor of being just as useful as Bertha Jorkins.”

“You... you…” Wormtail sounded like he had sand in his mouth. "You... are going... to kill me too?”

"Wormtail, Wormtail, why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward questions would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with the news that she had met you on her holidays. Wizards who are supposed to be dead would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns…”

Wormtail muttered something, then Riddle laughed, again reminding Nico of Kronos’s cold, dark bellow from the pits of Tartarus.

“We could have modified her memory? But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail. One more murder... my faithful servant at Hogwarts… Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet… I think I hear Nagini…”

Voldemort started speaking in hisses, the parseltongue Annabeth had described from her lessons with Dumbledore. The old man beside Nico turned, and when Nico followed his terrified eyes, he saw something slithering towards the door - a gigantic snake, about twelve feet long. It neared the old man, looked him straight in the eye, then slithered into the room where Wormtail and Riddle were talking.

_ Run! The snake is going to - _

“Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail,” Riddle crooned.

_ No! Run, you stupid old man! Run! _

“In- indeed, My Lord?”

“Indeed, yes. According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say.”

The door flung open, and a short, middle-aged man with small beady eyes stared at the old man, looking almost as scared as the old him himself. This man had to be Wormtail, but Nico couldn't locate Riddle.

“Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?”

Riddle's voice came from an armchair by the fire, turned around so Nico couldn’t see his body. The snake, Nagini, curled beside the chair, like a dog at the feet of her master. Wormtail motioned for the old man to step inside. He did so, Nico on his heels. For what seemed like ages the only sounds in the room were the fire crackling and the thump of the old man’s walking stick.

“You heard everything, Muggle?” Riddle asked.

“What's that you're calling me?” the old man asked defiantly. Nico had to applaud his stupid, deadly courage.

“I am calling you a Muggle,” Riddle replied coolly. “It means that you are not a wizard.”

“I don't know what you mean by wizard,” the old man challenged. “All I know is I've heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have. You've done murder and you're planning more! And I'll tell you this too, my wife knows I'm up here, and if I don't come back - ”

“You have no wife,” Riddle whispered. “Nobody knows you are here. You told nobody that you were coming. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows… he always knows…”

“Is that right?" the old man asked. “Lord, is it? Well, I don't think much of your manners, My Lord. Turn around and face me like a man, why don't you?”

“But I am not a man, Muggle,” Riddle answered, voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “I am much, much more than a man. However… why not? I will face you... Wormtail, come turn my chair around.” Wormtail whimpered. “You heard me, Wormtail.”

Wormtail looked like he’d rather do anything than face Riddle and Nagini. The old man saw Riddle first; his walking stick fell to the ground out of shock.

When Nico saw Riddle, he couldn't blame the old man one bit.

It was a fetus, a baby, but the ugliest baby Nico had ever seen. It was the face of an old man… but not. He looked evil, unnatural, every fiber in the son of Hades’ being told him this wasn’t right. He felt a manic desire to kill, tear flesh limb from limb, and destroy whatever that - thing - thought it was.

With a flash of green light and a rushing sound, the old man crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Nico woke up with a gasp, his eyes wide with fear and repulsion. He sat up and looked around. Percy and Annabeth were both asleep, Annabeth beside him and Percy in the chair where he should be keeping watch.

No one noticed when Nico slipped into the bathroom with his sword, a black towel, and ambrosia squares.

The pain couldn’t come fast enough. Nico gasped with a mixture of pain and pleasure as the blade hit his skin, feeling the cold Styxian iron on his bare flesh, taking the dream away, taking the image of Riddle away; with a cut of his sword, everything was suddenly gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have a task for you!
> 
> I'm almost done editing this story, which means that, very soon, I'm going to begin my next fanfiction, which I hope to begin releasing this coming August. "The Coming of Nico di Angelo" is set to end in the beginning of July, so the next fic would begin a few weeks after that one ends.
> 
> I have two ideas that I like equally. So, I thought I'd let you decide, since you're the ones who are going to be reading it. So, I'll put the basics right here. [If you click here, you'll get a link to a poll, where you can vote on which you'd like to see first](http://www.poll-maker.com/poll572672xfFDC41f8-24/) \- I'll probably do both ideas eventually, but whichever you want to see more will come next.
> 
>  
> 
> STORY #1: STARTING OVER AGAIN (An Avatar: The Last Airbender fic; 30 - 40 chapters; would update once a week)
> 
> An AU set after the events of "The Rift" comic series. 
> 
> Fire Lord Zuko is pushed to the limit when he's attacked and nearly killed by the New Ozai Society. When he wakes from a coma hours after the attack, he learns a hard, bitter truth: the one who tried to kill him was none other than the ex-girlfriend he's still in love with, Mai. 
> 
> The main pairing is Maiko, with some Kataang, and an in-depth exploration of both Mai's and Zuko's characters, and the events that led to their break-up in "The Promise".
> 
>  
> 
> STORY #2: DIVIDED BY FATE (A BBC Merin fic; about 60 chapters; would update twice a week)
> 
> A complete AU in which none of the original TV show is canon. This one is set up a bit differently, each chapter will correspond to a specific episode of BBC's Merlin, with the same name. Some plot lines will be the same, however, there will be a LOT of original plotlines, new characters, and deviations from the original story. In each "season", there will also be a 100% original chapter, not based on any episode, which will help to further my original plots that make this fic worth existing.
> 
> Based on the Arthurian legend, when a young wizard named Merlin arrives in Camelot, he's overwhelmed by the city, its people, and the introduction of a grand destiny. Fighting to figure out who he is while fulfilling this fate, Merlin unwittingly attracts the eye of the kingdom's fairest maiden: the King's Ward, the Lady Morgana from the house of Gorlois.
> 
> The main pairing is Mergana, with some Merewn, Gwenalot, Arwen, and most of the canon pairings. Further explores Merlin and Morgana's characters, specifically their reactions and emotions towards Uther, Arthur, and their distinct destinies. Also introduces new characters and details from the original Arthurian legend.
> 
>  
> 
> So, vote on which you'd like to see next! I think I'll end voting as soon as it's clear which story has a bigger following, depending on how many people vote this week I'll let you know next week if I've chosen a fic, or when voting will end.
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	16. How to Break Into a Graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy, Annabeth, and Nico uncover the first of Riddle's horcruxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Mild Violence  
> Word Count: 2808
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

 

After a deep, dreamless sleep, Annabeth woke up in the motel room. She lazily opened up an eye, allowing her surroundings to drift into view. Nico sat, perched on top of the kitchenette's counter, eyes staring vacantly at the wall.

Percy, waking up too, noticed Nico and looked at him in confusion. “Nico? What are you doing?”

Nico jumped at the sound of his voice. “Dream,” Nico answered, voice clipped. “Thinking.”

Percy raised his eyebrows. “Thinking? About what?”

“Thinking,” Nico repeated. “It wasn’t…” His voice trailed off. “It scared me. I saw Riddle for the first time, and he scared me half to death.”

Percy stood up, and walked over to him. “It’s okay to be upset. I’ve had my fair share of nightmares, and so has Annabeth. It’s part of being a demigod.”

“A sucky part,” Nico grumbled. “Just pray that you’ll never have to see that - thing - ever. It’s horrible, it’s unnatural, and he’s barely even human.”

Percy opened his mouth, then shut it again. After a small silence, he asked, “What was the dream about?”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Baby me. Pretend you care. I can take care of myself.”

“He’s not pretending,” Annabeth cut in, then took a moment to sit up and rub her eyes. “And he’s definitely not babying you. He’s asking because we’re on a quest, and you’re the leader; the Fates send you the most significant dreams. So grow up, and stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

She was a little harsher than she probably should’ve been, but Annabeth hated it when Nico closed himself off like that. It frustrated her… and it reminded her of the teenage Riddle.

Since the thought first popped into her mind, Annabeth couldn’t stop making connections between Riddle and Nico. It frustrated her, how similar they were. Nico wasn’t evil. He wouldn’t kill innocent people or attempt to cheat death, and would never stray far from the gods. But, the way he talked sometimes, it brought Annabeth right back to the lifeless orphanage, the flaming wardrobe, and the young wizard with a gleam in his eye.

Nico pushed off the counter, and sat at the table, motioning for Percy and Annabeth to join him. He stared at the center of the table while he retold his dream; his voice entirely free of all emotion. As he described the simple way Riddle talked about murder, Annabeth felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. Lord Voldemort sounded exactly like Kronos.

Percy listened to Nico without distraction, which was harder than it seemed for an ADHD demigod. Annabeth smiled at the scene; it reminded her of the way her step-siblings acted back at home. She thought about what Percy had said the last time they were in a hotel room, about his promise to Bianca, and the responsibility he felt towards the boy she left behind. She could see the brotherly love in Percy’s eyes and Annabeth only wished that Nico saw it too.

_Riddle didn’t have friends either._

After Nico had finished, Annabeth spoke. “I understand why the gods sent the dream to you.” She made sure she had both boys' attention, then explained. "The location - that's the important part. Nico, you said Riddle looked weak, not even human. Don't you think one of the first places he'd go in that situation would be to a horcrux? He's afraid of death, so seeing his safeguard unharmed would comfort him."

"Are you saying that the ring's in that house?" Nico asked. "But, I didn't see where the house was. I was already inside when the dream started."

“I think I know where the house is,” Annabeth assured him. “Think, Nico. Riddle’s killed a lot of people, which means that he’d have more than enough murders to create horcruxes. How would he decide which deaths to use horcruxes for?”

“The important ones," Nico replied. Annabeth bit her lip; she didn’t like how fast Nico came up with the answer. "The ones that he would bother to remember.”

“Exactly. And what better way to take revenge on a father that never wanted you by killing him in his own home, making a horcrux with his murder, and hiding it in his own house?”

Percy's eyes went wide. "That's - that's just sick."

“It’s not in the house,” Nico refuted. “That’s too easy. But you’re right, it would be nearby.” He closed his eyes, and muttered under his breath, “Find the horcrux.” Darkness gathered by Nico's hand, pressed up against the table top. "Find the horcrux." Darkness rippled below Nico's palm, as the shadows did his bidding and sniffed out the object. "It's near," Nico murmured, eyes still shut. "It's underground."

“Underground?” Annabeth prompted, ignoring the unnatural prickle in her stomach.

“In a hole, I can sense it…” Nico’s eyes opened wide, like he’d been punched in the gut. “It’s in Tom Riddle Senior’s _grave_.”

“Where?” Percy cried.

“Are you sure?” Annabeth questioned. She wasn't in the mood to go grave robbing if she didn’t have to.

“One hundred percent” Nico answered, unbothered by the fact that he'd have to go dig up a dead guy. “It’s there, I can feel its aura now. It’s weak, but definitely coming from towards the graveyard. Let’s go.”

They cleared out of the motel in record time, navigating the sidewalks to the local graveyard. While she and Percy felt a little disturbed by what they planned to do - one look at Percy's face said it all - Nico seemed to give it no thought.

_I guess he's done this before, how many times has he shown up to camp saying he'd been in a graveyard in Chicago or New Orleans? He's on his home turf, no reason to bat an eye._

That was a depressing thought.

Nico, Annabeth, and Percy, guided by the aura of the horcrux, made it to the graveyard within the hour. Nico motioned towards a small fence surrounding the property, then climbed it in seconds flat. Since neither Percy nor Annabeth had as much experience as Nico did when it came to breaking into graveyards, it took longer for them to do the same. When they met on the other side of the fence, Nico looked distracted. He stole glances at the church in front of the graveyard, head cocked like he was listening to something.

“Look for the name Riddle,” Nico instructed. "I don't know where the grave is beyond the fact that it's here."

“Can’t you just follow the aura like you were before?” Percy asked.

“Too strong now; it’s overpowering.”

“Let’s split up,” Percy suggested. “Take a look.”

That's when all Hades broke loose.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

 

Nico landed on the other side of the fence first, then motioned towards Percy and Annabeth to follow him. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings, when Teddy’s voice filled his mind.

“Something’s not right. Can’t you feel it? You’re being watched. Look by the church; I think someone’s over there.”

Nico glanced towards the church, and, sure enough, he saw a woman, crouched almost out of sight, focused on Annabeth hoisting Percy over the fence.

_It’s a woman. Pale, pink hair, do you know her?_

“That’s - that’s my _mom_!” Teddy cried, his voice caught between shock and disbelief. “That’s Nymphadora Tonks!”

_Your what?! Why?! What’s she doing here?!_

“I don’t know! She’s a member of the Order of the Phoenix, maybe she knows something from Dumbledore?”

_The Order of the What?_

"Phoenix. It’s an organization formed to fight Lord Voldemort the first time he rose to power twentyish years ago. It resurfaced when he cheated death and came back; Dumbledore’s the head of it."

_Oh. But, Dumbledore’s sworn to secrecy, he can’t tell anyone who we are._

Nico thought back to his dream about the murder of the Potters, and a thought occurred to him.

_Wait a second. Were Harry’s parents original members? Is that why Riddle tried to kill them?_

"Maybe. I mean, they were members, but why he attempted to kill them, I don’t know. Why is that important?"

_What if Harry’s a member now? Percy said Harry wouldn’t leave him alone when we left for the quest - what if Harry told the Order about us leaving, not knowing where we were going, and asked your mom to follow us? Harry’s convinced I’m some dark wizard._

"That would explain a lot. If Dumbledore has Harry Potter replacing his parents... that would explain everything, actually."

_Ok, great. Now, what do I do about your mom?_

"Get the horcrux. She doesn’t know what horcruxes are; she’ll try and take it from you once you find it. Just defeat her. You can do that easily with the skills I taught you. Just be careful, and don't hurt her unless you have to - she is my mom, after all, and one of the good guys."

_Of course not._

Teddy didn’t have to say that, Nico had his vow after all. No mortals would find cruel death at his hand, even if he were under attack.

“Look for the name Riddle,” Nico told Percy and Annabeth when they finally walked up next to him. "I don't know where the grave is beyond the fact that it's here."

“Can’t you just follow the aura like you were before?” Percy asked.

“Too strong now, it’s overpowering.”

“Let’s split up,” Percy suggested. “Take a look.”

The moment they stepped apart, a red beam fired from the church window. Nico, ready for Tonks’s attack, pulled Percy and Annabeth out of the way. Where they'd stood, smoke rose from a small crater. They ran for cover, crouching behind a rock formation at the edge of the fence. They were safe for now, but Tonks would eventually come outside and try again.

“What was that?” Annabeth stared at Nico, drawing her drakon bone sword.

“We've been followed,” Nico answered, jutting his head towards the church. “I’ll take care of her; you guys start looking for the right grave.”

“Too dangerous,” Percy decided. “We fight together, send whoever followed us back to wherever they came from.”

“Do you think it’s one of Riddle’s followers?” Annabeth asked.

“No,” Nico replied. “It’s a friend of Harry Potter’s.”

Percy’s mouth hung open. “Oh gods - he said he knew where we were going. He knew about Lares; he might’ve known about where we came from! The way he was talking, it was like he knew we’d get what we had coming to us… it had to be this.”

“You knew about this?!” Annabeth cried.

“I didn’t realize it until right now, I’m sorry!” Percy yelled, his voice heavy with adrenaline.

“Sorry isn’t good enough!” Annabeth shot back. Another blast of red light soared through the air, hitting a fence just behind them and making it smolder. “We need to get that horcrux before we're all blown to pieces."

“You go - use your Yankees cap. Nico and I will create a diversion,” Percy said. Annabeth glanced warily at Nico, who met her eye and nodded. A diversion was their best chance. Finally, she dug her cap out of her pocket and put it on, disappearing from sight.

Nico and Percy jumped out from behind the rock, running towards the church with swords in hand. Percy pressed a button on his watch, and his shield sprang open. More red light hit the shield, causing it to smoke, but if Percy felt the impact he didn’t react.

“Come on out!” Percy shouted. “You scared of a couple of kids?”

Tonks stepped outside the church, a dark gleam in her eyes.

"She’s trained in combat," Teddy warned in Nico’s ear. "She works for the wizarding government as a protector. She knows what she’s doing."

Nico nodded in acknowledgement as Percy inched closer to her, his sword gleaming and shield raised. Tonks didn’t say a word, just fired from her wand again, creating more red light. It hit Percy’s shield, and dissolved.

_Must not be as powerful as celestial bronze._

Tonks and Percy began to circle each other; Nico stood off to the side, sword at the ready. He felt Annabeth's shadow inching closer to the graves behind him, silent but slow.

Percy yelled, and thrust his sword towards Tonks. She waved her wand, and a bright blue light emerged from its tip. Bronze met blue and the sword bounced off, like the blue light was made of iron. Percy gritted his teeth, trying to get within range again. Tonks shot more spells, her incantations blending together in one long stream. First, red jets shot from her wand tip, than other colors as she got more creative with her enchantments. Percy parried every blow, but it was clear he was getting tired; his thrusts got weaker, his feet a little slower. Nico wanted to step in, but he could sense Annabeth still in the open. He couldn’t leave her undefended.

Tonks made contact with Percy for the first time; when her jet of red light hit his sword, it flew from his hand. He crouched behind his shield, ready to defend, looking for an opportunity to get his sword back. Tonks didn’t give him one. Now that she had the upper hand, she fired blow after blow, trying to get past Percy’s shield.

"Use your powers!" Teddy urged. "You can fight her and win! Percy can’t fight anymore!"

_But what about Annabeth?_

"My mom doesn’t know where she is. You have to try and defend Percy, or she’ll stun him. Maybe even kill him."

That got Nico’s attention. He didn’t care whose mother Tonks was, he wasn’t about to let someone hurt his friend. “Protect me!” Nico shouted; the familiar shadow barrier erupted from his hands, dividing Percy and Tonks.

“Nico, what are you doing?!” Percy cried in amazement.

“Get. Your. Sword.” Nico groaned through gritted teeth. Percy scrambled to where it had fallen, but the barrier separated him from Riptide.

“You need to lower the barrier!” Percy shouted. “I’ll be fine!”

"Do it!" Teddy ordered.

Nico pulled the shadows back in. Tonks’s hair had fallen into her face, her clothes were slashed in multiple places, and her eyes shone like she was ready to kill a man.

"Raise the dead," Teddy instructed.

“Serve me!” Nico shouted. Two skeletons rose from a crack in the ground. Tonks shot green light from her wand, muttering something under her breath. Nico knew that green light. It was the thing that had killed Harry Potter’s parents and the old man in his dreams. It was the killing curse.

The dead were, well, already dead, so all the green light did was slow them down, even though Tonks got them right in the skull. She raised her shield again, but she couldn’t hold it forever, and the dead were advancing on her. Nico stepped towards her with his sword at the ready; Tonks lowered her shield a second before Nico struck.

In Nico's mind, Teddy shouted orders, sword movements to assist his own training from camp. His black blade a blur, Tonks barely had time to block his blows before he struck again. She started to tire, but Nico felt adrenaline pump through him and give him strength. Tonks didn’t know it, but she was fighting two people, Nico di Angelo and her own son, Teddy Lupin. There was no way she could win.

A skeleton landed its first blow, hitting Tonks square in the chest with one of its ribs. She crumpled, collapsing to her knees, with her hands supporting her body, and her head lowered, breathing hard. Nico wouldn’t kill her, but she didn’t know that. He walked towards her, his sword at the ready like he was planning on an execution.

“If you don’t want to die, you’ll tell me why you’re here,” Nico commanded.

Tonks looked up, hate in her eyes. “To stop you.”

Green light emerged from the wand still in her hand… its tip directed right at Percy, now guarding the grave Annabeth had to be standing at.

Time slowed. Nico shouted in alarm, but there was nothing he could do. Teddy chanted an incantation in Nico's mind, a single phrase: “Damn to Hades”. Nico repeated it, forcing every ounce of energy he had on the green light racing towards Percy. Percy turned just as the light was about to hit him -

A millisecond before it could, the green beam stopped in midair. Everyone stared at it, watching it glow the color of Nico’s sword. When it couldn’t get any darker, it vanished completely.

Nico’s knees buckled; he sank to the ground with black spots dancing in his eyes. He knew he was floating in and out of consciousness; time passed in non-sequenator moments. Annabeth pulled a ring from a hole in the ground. Percy swiped his sword at Tonks. Tonks disapparated to avoid Percy’s fatal blow.

“Grazie, Teddy,” Nico mumbled, then passed out completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, our resident artist Viviana di Chiara drew an AMAZING comic of the ending's scene:
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia  
> Other: [Viviana di Chiara - Arist](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com)  
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	17. Raiders of the Lost Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy, Annabeth, and Nico retrieve the second horcrux, then return to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Mild Cursing  
> Word Count: 2494
> 
>  
> 
> Three quick things:
> 
> One, the results are in! Since no one's voted on the poll for a bit (1 person in the last 12 days - and that person voted almost a week ago), I'm calling it and making a decision. The breakdown was as follows:
> 
> Starting Over Again (Avatar the Last Airbender fic) - 46 total votes - 44% of voters voted for this  
> Divided By Fate (BBC Merlin fic) - 50 total votes - 48% of voters voted for this  
> Neither; she should come up with another idea/take prompts - 9 total votes - 9% of voters voted for this
> 
> So, the winner is...  
> DIVIDED BY FATE! I'll keep you posted on that, such as when I'll release the first chapter, and more details about the actual plot. In the meantime, if you have any prompt ideas for me, please let me know. While I like to focus on one big fanfic at a time, I'll do prompt-based one-shots pretty much whenever for any pairing and/or fandom.
> 
> Two, I'm thinking about changing my profile picture. I know that's not a huge deal, but now that I'm freely associating this account with my other accounts (YouTube, FaceBook, Writing Commission Sites, etc.) as another example of my work. So, I feel like I need to give it the same profile picture that those other things have, so they know it's me.
> 
> That brings me to why I'm bringing this up at all - if I decide to change the profile picture, it'll be of myself. Like, my actual face, the headshot I have on my resumé and other "professional" sites. I haven't seen ANYONE on this site use their actual face as a profile picture, so I was just wondering if anyone had any thoughts on that. This is a decision I'll come up with on my own, but I'm still curious to see what you guys think, as it may impact my decision.
> 
> And, third, yes, I said "writing commission sites" up there! I haven't finished setting up the accounts yet, since I have to go through literally everything I've ever written and decide what to put into my portfolio, plus touch up some older works, so they sound like me. But, by next week, I should be all ready to launch. So, if you'd be interested in having me edit, ghostwrite, or collaborate with you, or anything in between, I'll link to those when they're ready.
> 
> I need to stress this - those sites aren't for fanfiction. If you want to collaborate with me, send me a prompt, or have me beta read your work, just contact me here. I'll do that for free, because it's fun. But, for original works, longer stuff like novels or essays or speeches or grant writings, I am going to most likely charge something, depending on the project, what you can afford, and its length, because writing and editing are seriously hard work. All that money goes towards my writing projects like "Freedom Fighter".
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

****

Nico opened his eyes back in his dorm at Westover Hall, staring into space, trying to process what just happened. He’d outsmarted Harry Potter. He’d saved a life. They had the first horcrux.

“Are you awake?” Teddy asked. Nico’s eyes followed the voice, and saw Teddy perched on a desk chair by Nico's bedside.

“Yeah,” Nico groaned, sitting up. “I need to thank you; you saved Percy’s life.”

Teddy dismissed Nico's words with a wave of the hand.“You did that. I just helped out a little.”

“No, Teddy, your instructions are the reason we have the horcrux."

Teddy smiled. “All I’m doing is unlocking your potential, your power. It’s you, not me.”

Nico didn't believe that, but he knew Teddy wouldn't back down. “Maybe. You have to teach me how to do that whole ‘damn to Hades’ thing. That was incredible.”

Teddy shook his head. “It’s a hard move to learn. You need to work your way up to that.”

“I did it just now,” Nico protested. “You said that you wanted to make me strong enough to succeed in my quest and get some of my old life back. How are you going to do that if you won’t show me advanced moves? I can take it, Teddy, I swear.”

Teddy sat in thought for an agonizingly slow few seconds. “We’ll have to start slow - work our way up to actually using it in combat.”

Nico pumped his fist in the air. “Yes! I owe you one, Teddy!”

Teddy smiled again. “Yeah, you do. Now take this - ” he gave Nico a small vial with a clear liquid inside. “ - it’s a potion for a dreamless sleep. You earned it, after that battle today.”

Nico looked at it, then downed it in a gulp. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” He laid back down on his bed, and his eyes closed. He fell asleep before Teddy had even sat back down.

He woke - after the best sleep of his life - with light dancing on his eyelids. All Nico could think was how much he wanted to fall asleep again; he let out a small groan. 

“Come on, Nico - you need to wake up.” 

Percy sounded... scared? From his tone, Nico gathered he had to be close to death. He certainly felt like it; now that the potion’s effects were wearing off, Nico noticed his pain for the first time. His head pounded, his arms and legs felt broken, and every inch of skin burned like he was swimming in lava. Still exhausted, he groaned again, a little louder this time. “ 'Mm up,” Nico breathed, slurring his words. 

He could hear Percy’s relieved sigh. “Can you open your eyes? Are you all right?”

Nico kept his eyes closed, but smiled a little bit. “Sound like Will.” 

“I know. How do you feel?” Percy asked again.

“Tired. Hot. Hurt all over.” Every breath stabbed at his rib cage.

Percy couldn't meet Nico's eye. “I didn’t want to try any more nectar. I’m so sorry.”

Nico furrowed his brow in confusion. “For what?”

“You saved my life, and Annabeth and I couldn’t even protect you from Riddle’s monsters. You got hurt Nico, bad. You’ve been out cold for three days now.”

“Three days?!” Nico cried, but the effort hurt him, another stabbing pain made him grimace. He moved his hand to his stomach, and muttered “Oww.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Percy instructed. “You cracked your ribs, it must’ve been from the Inferi. They must’ve known you’re the son of Hades - they wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Inferi?” Nico managed. For the first time, he inspected the room beyond Percy's face. It was small, but somewhat ornate, with stained glass windows and a high ceiling. He saw wooden benches all around him, arranged in boxes and rows. “And where are we?”

“The church,” Percy explained. “We crashed here, 'cause we were so beat up. Annabeth told the homeless orphans story, and he let us stay until you got well enough for us to move you. Wish it had been Piper doing the talking, she might’ve been able to get us more than wooden benches to sleep on.”

So that’s what this hard surface is. 

“What did you mean Inferi?” He knew of the di Inferi, they were Latin deities of the underworld, outside of Pluto’s control. He’d never met one, and he didn’t want to.

“You didn’t think Riddle would leave his horcrux undefended, did you?” Percy questioned. “There were dozens of them, and all sorts of curses surrounding the grave. We must’ve been fighting for hours, I don’t know how we got out alive.”

“And I was just lying there helpless?” Nico felt ashamed. His friends had been in danger, and he’d been out cold like some stupid damsel in distress.

“Hey!" Percy protested. "I’d be dead if it weren’t for you! You weren’t helpless, you got us the ring.” 

“Where’s Annabeth?” Nico asked.

Percy pointed towards the door. “Trying to destroy the horcrux."

“She won’t be able to,” Nico said. “It’s nearly impossible for a human to destroy a soul.”

“Would you be able to do it?” Percy asked in a hopeful tone.

Nico shook his head. “Only my father, and I’m not calling him up every time we get a new horcrux. There are a few mortal ways to destroy one, like with certain poisons, curses, and blades. Our best bet is Dumbledore, he must know something about where to get that.”

Percy shook his head at the ground, laughing in self-pity. “Figures we'd have even more to find."

"Yeah," Nico agreed. "But, if this were easy, the kindly ones could've taken care of it.”

“Fair enough.” Percy glanced back at Nico with a quizzical look. “What are we going to do about your ribs?”

Nico felt his stomach, and grimaced again. They were definitely cracked, if not broken. “Call Will, I guess. Do we know anyone else with medical knowledge?”

“No,” Percy said. “But I hate calling him. The last time you guys talked was that boggart attack, and now this - ” Percy gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “ - he’s going to think that you can’t take care of yourself.”

“Even more than he already does,” Nico agreed. “Just send the Iris message. According to Grover, the other horcrux is in a vault in a wizarding bank called Gringotts. There’s no way to get inside unless I shadow travel us there, and I can’t do that with a broken rib. Dealing with Will teasing me will be less painful... a little less painful, anyway.”

“I don’t understand how you guys are even friends,” Percy joked. “You fight all the time.”

Nico suppressed a smile. “We manage.”

Percy sent the Iris message, though it was early morning on Long Island, Will was awake. When they finished explaining what happened, Will let out a long sigh. “Really, Neeks? Again? Why is it always you who almost dies all the time?”

“Don’t call me Neeks,” Nico threatened, making Will smirk. “Just tell us how to fix me, William.”

“All right, I'll be nice. All you have to say is, ‘please Will, O wise healer, I swear I’ll never almost die before breakfast ever again’, and we’ll call it a day.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Please Will, O arrogant healer, I swear I’ll never talk to you again if you don’t tell us how to fix me right now.”

“That would be a tragedy,” Will deadpanned. Then, he got to work teaching Percy the healing spell, which he finally managed after a good fifteen minutes. The pain in his body melted away, he breathed normally, and sat up. Then, Percy supported his weight as he finally put two feet on the ground, and stood.

“Thanks, Will,” Nico said.

“Just try not to die, okay, Neeks?” Will asked, voice full of exasperation.

Nico gave a teasing smile. “You know me.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” Will waved his hands through the mist, and his image vanished.

Within the hour, Nico was at full strength, but Percy refused to shadow travel with him until sunset. "You need time to rest," Percy had argued. "And I don't want to end up in Russia because you were too impatient to wait a little longer." 

Percy and Annabeth rotated napping and guarding the horcrux, but, after three days of sleeping, Nico felt restless. He killed time training, electing to hone his sword fighting skills rather than his magical ones. He didn’t want to waste energy with Teddy's promise to learn 'damn to Hades'. Besides, he had to be careful with his powers in the real world; using them too much dragged his soul to the Underworld.

At long last, the sun dipped below the valley. All three demigods dressed in their armor, and gathered their things. With one final sweep of the church, Nico guided Percy and Annabeth to Gringotts through the shadows.

The vault was pitch black until Percy uncapped Riptide, so its bronze light could illuminate the cavern. They stood in a huge cave, packed to the brim with treasures. From floor to ceiling, Nico noticed gold coins, jewelry, armor, furs... even a skull wearing a crown.

“Whoa,” Percy gasped.

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed.

“Find the cup,” Nico instructed. “We need to get in and out, before someone notices us. Anyone would think we're robbers.” 

Annabeth described the cup to Percy and Nico one last time, then they moved towards the piles, hugging Riptide's circle of light. Nico’s eyes fell on a jeweled golden cup near the edge of a nearby pile. He reached out to grab and inspect it, but the moment his fingers made contact, the entire thing burned white hot. Nico yelled in pain as he held his blistered fingers, then again in shock when the cup exploded into thirty exact replicas of itself.

“What happened?” Percy called, coming around the corner.

“It burned me!” Nico grimaced, holding up his injured hand.

“It has to be the Germino and Flagrante curses!” Annabeth yelled, her voice coming from Nico's right. “I read about them back at camp! Everything you touch will burn and multiply, if we keep touching all this stuff we’re going to get crushed by all the gold!”

“Well, then, how are we supposed to find the cup?!” Percy called back.

Annabeth turned the corner, sprinting to meet the other two. “Just stand still, and don’t move. Don’t touch anything. If you see something, point it out to me and I’ll make sure it's the right one. We can’t pick up every cup we see, or we’ll end up dying.”

“But, we can’t see everything from where we’re standing,” Percy pointed out.

“Then - then just walk around, but be careful! And call me over if you see anything!”

It was hard, slow work, but Nico finally found his way around the cavern, squinting in the dim light. He noticed a long shelf, with rows of treasure on top. They looked the right size, but he couldn't make it out. 

“Percy!” Nico called. Percy inched towards Nico, the light growing until Nico could see the shelf clearly. “It’s here! I can see it! Annabeth!”

Annabeth scampered to where Nico and Percy stood, creating a wide berth between her and all the gold. Her grey eyes followed Nico's pointed finger, then her face brightened. “That’s it!”

“How are we supposed to get up there without touching anything?” Percy asked.

“Use your sword,” Annabeth suggested. “I think the spells are only activated by human contact.” 

Percy nudged a stack of gold coins with Riptide. Nothing happened. He reached up, trying to hook one of the handles around Riptide’s blade tip, but the shelf was too high.

Percy grunted in frustration, and lowered his sword. "What do we do now?" he asked.

With the precision only found in architect children of Athena, Annabeth threw her drakon bone sword straight at the shelf above. It hit at a perfect angle, the impact causing the cup to fall to Earth, the blade tumbling after. Nico reached up and caught them both, grunting in pain at the boiling metal. More faux cups littered the floor, but Annabeth took the cup by the tip of her sword, holding it aloft.

"That, seaweed brain. We do that."

“Ow... thanks, Annabeth,” Nico said. Now both of his hands were injured. “Let’s get going before we're caught.” 

Percy and Annabeth grabbed Nico’s shoulders, since both his hands were throbbing. Nico ran towards the nearest wall, then shadow traveled back to the entrance hall of Hogwarts. From the noise coming from the Great Hall, Nico assumed it was dinnertime.

“I’m starving,” Percy said. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“Let’s go quick,” Nico agreed. “Then I’ll get my hands checked by Madam Pomfrey.”

“I’d better put the horcruxes in my trunk," Annabeth replied. "I'll meet you there.” Then, she headed towards the staircase to the Ravenclaw common room. Percy and Nico walked into the Great Hall, just as Hedwig delivered a letter to her master.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

Harry read the message over and over again, anger boiling in his stomach. “What do you mean, you lost him?!” Harry muttered under his breath, so only Ron and Hermione could hear. “He’s just a student, Tonks! You’re an Auror, in the bloody Order of - ”

“Harry, stop before someone hears you!” Hermione warned, her voice a whisper.

“I can’t take this!” Harry whispered violently. “Every time we think we have di Angelo, he somehow gets off scot free! It’s - ”

“Awful, mate, I know, but Hermione’s right,” Ron said.

At that moment, Jackson and di Angelo strolled into the Great Hall, greeting friends with grins and waves. It made Harry’s blood boil and his hair stand on end. Who comes back from a dangerous mission for their master and jokes like nothing happened?! Why wouldn’t di Angelo act suspiciously, as he had on the train, so everyone could see he was hiding something?! Why wouldn’t he show his true colors?! He could tell Ron and Hermione felt the same way, but no one else seemed to even realize anything had happened. Harry even glanced at Umbridge; she was reading a piece of parchment and frowning, then glancing at Jackson and di Angelo. Harry hated himself for half-hoping she would get them expelled, for rooting for Umbridge… but di Angelo was the bigger threat.

“We have potions with him tomorrow, Harry. We’ll get him then,” Ron assured him.

Harry watched as Jackson sat beside the twins, who greeted him cheerfully. He listened as Jackson made up some bullshit story about going home for the weekend and visiting his mom in New York with the others, explaining various scratches and bruises to a skateboarding accident. Fred and George ate up every word, only asking what skateboarding was. Back at the Slytherin table, di Angelo chatted with a Slytherin boy and girl, no doubt telling them the exact same lie.

"You're right," Harry whispered back to Ron. "We'll get him tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	18. The Return of Will's Singing Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes his first steps to expose Nico di Angelo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing  
> Word Count: 2628
> 
>  
> 
> I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE! I'm on a business trip to New York (wow, that's weird, I'm 17 and on an actual business trip... freaky...) and I literally just got back to the hotel. I'm sitting here, eating my I-don't-even-know-what-kind-of-salad-this-is salad from that-one-vegan-restaurant-I-could-find-that-I-could-afford (#firstworldveganproblems lol) giving this chapter its final proofread. Life's hectic, but, hey, I'm a 17-year-old girl who's got a show going up NYC in May 2017 (yes, I got the confirmed date like an hour ago ahhhhh), so I'm sure as hell not complaining.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

 

All morning, Harry focused on getting di Angelo to confess during Potions. He actually looked forward to the double period; it meant he had twice the time to crack the Slytherin.

“What are you going to do?” Ron asked as he, Harry, and Hermione hurried to the dungeons.

“Confront him,” Harry answered immediately.

“What?!” Hermione exclaimed. “Harry, his father’s a Death Eater. You can’t just - ”

Hermione cut herself off as di Angelo rounded the corner with his Slytherin friends. Harry was ready to face him, but Ron grabbed his arm and pulled him through a doorway instead. He pressed his ear up to the wall, hoping to hear di Angelo's conversation.

“Why won’t you tell us how you got that bruise on your stomach?” Zabini sounded pissed; this couldn't be the first time they'd discussed di Angelo's injuries.

“I told you, Blaise, you were seeing things. I don’t have a bruise,” di Angelo protested.

“I wasn’t seeing things, Nico. I don’t understand why you’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Then why are you getting so defensive?” A girl's voice that time, Hestia Carrow.

“I’m not lying, Hestia. Just drop it, okay?” Anger slipped into di Angelo's voice that time. Harry reached into his pocket, fingers curling around his wand. As much as he hated the Slytherins, if di Angelo hurt those students for asking the wrong questions...

“I’m not dropping it until you tell us how you hurt yourself.” Carrow easily matched di Angelo's hostile tone.

“It’s none of your business!” di Angelo shouted, momentarily losing control. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks. He was hiding something, that was obvious.

“Whoa, Nico, um, okay…” Zabini said, startled.

Di Angelo took a deep breath, calming himself. “I’m sorry guys… just don’t ask, okay? It’s - complicated...”

Harry poked his head out of the door, drinking in the scene. Di Angelo's skin was even paler than usual, and his palms looked burnt. Carrow rubbed his arm in a sisterly kind of way, Zabini looking at him with concern.

“You can tell us anything, Nico,” Carrow assured him, her voice softer now.

Di Angelo shook his head. “Not this. Please, drop it.”

They entered the potions classroom, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione alone in the hallway. They left their hiding place, glancing around to make sure no one was coming.

“What did he mean?” Hermione asked in a nervous whisper.

“Only one way to find out,” Harry replied, and stepped into the potions room.

They took their usual seats at the back of the class. Di Angelo and his friends sat in front of them, meaning that they could eavesdrop more if need be. After the final student had entered the classroom, Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang. Chatter stopped at once; Snape walked to the front of the room as dozens of eyes followed his every move.

“You will notice that we have a guest with us today.” He motioned towards a dark corner of the dungeon, where Umbridge sat with her clipboard on her knee. Harry glanced from Umbridge to Snape to di Angelo, none of whom looked the least bit concerned. The inspection would complicate things; Snape's presence already made Harry's plan difficult, but Umbridge made it nearly impossible. Feeling Harry's heated gaze on him, di Angelo turned to return with a glare of his own. One look told Harry he knew exactly who sent Tonks after him, and that he was looking for revenge.

_Bring it on, di Angelo. I'd like to see you try._

“We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today,” Snape continued, interrupting Harry's thoughts. Di Angelo turned back to the front of the class, since Snape was approaching their desks. “You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, and if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend. Instructions - ” he waved his wand towards the chalkboard, “ - are on the board. Carry on.”

Umbridge remained in her dark corner for the first half-hour of her lesson. Between straining to eavesdrop on di Angelo’s conversation and watching Umbridge inspect Snape, Harry’s mind was far from his potion. “Salamander blood, Harry!” Hermione moaned, grabbing his wrist to stop him from putting the wrong ingredient in the cauldron for the third time. “Not pomegranate juice!”

“Right,” Harry mumbled, putting down the bottle with his eye on Umbridge. Di Angelo had gotten his wish. Blaise and Hestia had dropped the subject of the bruise, and only talked to him about the potion.

After an hour of waiting, Harry noticed Umbridge stand. She was ready to question Snape. “Ha,” Harry whispered to himself, watching as she made her way to the Potions master, who was bent over Dean's cauldron.

“Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level,” she noted, talking to Snape’s back. “Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus.” Snape straightened slowly, turning to look at her. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw di Angelo watching the scene as well. “Now... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"

“Fourteen years,” Snape answered, expression blank. Still watching Snape, Harry haphazardly added salamander blood to his potion, turning the liquid from greenish-blue to orange.

“You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?” Umbridge asked.

“Yes.” Snape's voice was barely above a whisper.

“But you were unsuccessful?” Umbridge pressed.

“Obviously.” Snape's answer carried daggers in it.

Umbridge, if she even noticed, didn't react. “And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?”

Snape's expression turned from deadpan to murderous. “Yes.”

Umbridge scribbled something on her clipboard. “Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?”

“I suggest you ask him.” The answer came from a locked jaw, cold fire in Snape's eyes.

“Oh, I shall,” Umbridge returned with a sweet smile.

“I suppose this is relevant?” Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.

“Oh, yes,” Umbridge assured him, voice laced with honey. “Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers’ - er - backgrounds...”

She turned, approached Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape surveyed the classroom, stopping when he locked eyes with the eavesdropping Harry. Trying to cover up what he'd witnessed, Harry moved his eyes to his potion, which had hardened inside the cauldron and smelled like burnt rubber.

Snape approached it slowly, a cruel smile on his lips. "No marks again, then, Potter. You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Harry directed as much anger in the word as he could, then glared at Snape when he walked away. From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed di Angelo's smile. “What do you think is so funny, di Angelo?” Harry challenged him.

“Nothing,” di Angelo replied. Despite his innocent tone, his eyes shone with vengeful happiness.

“Nice and calm now that you’re safe and all healed up, are you? Did you have a good trip?” Harry smiled as di Angelo’s eyes darkened.

“Yes, I did. Thanks for asking.” No one could miss the hatred in those clipped tones. Not that they did, since everyone in the area was watching them now. Pansy Parkinson kept Umbridge oblivious, and if Snape heard, he didn’t care enough to intercede.

“How about you stop lying, di Angelo?”

“I'm not lying to anyone, Harry. You got nothing on me, so lay off before I make you.”

“How about you tell them how you snuck out of Hogwarts in the middle of the night? How Jackson pulled a sword rather than say where he was going? How you never left the country like you said you would? Tell them about your mission, about who you serve. If you think I have nothing on you, you’re deluding yourself.”

With every word, di Angelo grew angrier, like wild animal growing defensive as it got backed into a corner by a predator.

“You just made all that up,” di Angelo snarled.

“Did I?" Harry countered. "I know exactly what you’re here for, and who you’re here for. I’m going to tell the entire school all about you and your little mission.”

Di Angelo stood and drew his sword; Harry did the same with his wand. Zabini and Carrow tried to calm their friend, with no success. Harry had set a fuse ablaze, and nothing could stop the coming explosion. All eyes were on them now, moving between di Angelo's and Harry's respective weapons. The air grew charged until no one could stand it, until -

"Hem, hem." Both boys turned towards the noise, where Umbridge stood with her sweet smile. “Detention for both of you, I think. Mr. Potter for spreading nasty, attention seeking lies, and Mr. di Angelo for drawing a weapon in class. Now sit down both of you if you don’t want further punishment.”

Both boys exchanged one last, threatening glare, then sat for the last few minutes of class. As the students filed out, Harry heard them discussing the fight, how defensive di Angelo was, and how he'd had no real answer for Harry's accusations. Despite the fact that he had to deal with an Umbridge detention and all that meant, Harry couldn’t help but give a victorious smile. He’d gotten his peers suspicious about di Angelo; the rumors would be spread by dinnertime. He’d won his first battle against the son of a Death Eater.

**____________________ **NICO** ____________________ **

 

 

After weeks of learning new skills with relative ease, this current training session felt jarring to Nico. His breath came heavy, his face reddened, and his recently healed ribs throbbed. He gritted his teeth and stared at his pillow, all his concentration directed at the incantation.

“Damn to Hades!” he shouted.

Nothing. He slammed his fists on the nightstand, letting out a frustrated yell.

“You’ll get it,” Teddy Lupin assured him. He stood behind Nico, his arms crossed, a stony look on his face. From the shortness in his voice, Nico knew he was getting frustrated, too.

“Two days! We’ve been at it two days, and nothing! I got all the other stuff in a matter of minutes!" Nico collapsed on the bed, tired from both the effort and lack of sleep. He hadn’t dreamed in two days, instead electing to spend from dusk until dawn with Teddy, trying to learn the new power. But, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t make the stupid pillow glow black. “How could I get it on my first try in Little Hangleton, and not do it now?!”

“You were under attack. Things are different on the battlefield, instincts take over… you can do almost anything when your life’s on the line.” Teddy's voice wasn't just short now, he sounded angry. “Face it, you’re not ready for this. We need to try something different. I can - ”

“No!” Nico yelled. “I’m _going_ to get this.”

Teddy's jaw clenched. “Don’t delude yourself into - ”

“I’m not deluding myself into anything!” Nico shouted. It marked the third time in twenty-four hours that the son of Hades had lost his temper.

Teddy raised an eyebrow. “Um, are you okay?” he asked, more questioning than actually concerned.

“Harry fucking Potter’s getting on my nerves again. He nearly blew my cover this morning. Who the hell sends an assassin after you and paints you as the lunatic?! He almost killed Percy, and I have to sit in a dark room staring at the wall with him?! How in Hades’ name is that fair?!” By the time Nico finished, his screams had produced an echo, and his throat hurt from the effort.

“Nico! Stop!” Teddy commanded. “Calm down! We’ll start again tomorrow, you need to get some sleep.”

“Damn to Hades!” Nico screamed, turning back to the pillow. Before his eyes, it turned grey, then black, then disappeared. “Wha…”

“Of course!” Teddy cried, his eyes sparkling. “It’s _anger_!”

“Anger?” Nico repeated, the question coming in a breathy whisper.

“Anger,” Teddy confirmed. “You were angry at my mom when you used the spell first, then again just now when you did it again! All we have to do is get you angry, and you’ll be able to do anything!”

“Shouldn’t be hard,” Nico muttered, but Teddy looked too happy to hear.

“Get up, we’re going outside. Let’s see if you can do bigger objects. Maybe the angrier you are, the better you can use your powers.” Teddy was halfway out the door when he realized something. “You haven't slept in two days. Get some rest, we’ll start up again to - ”

“No, let’s go.” Nico walked towards the door. Teddy gave him a look, but he still seemed anxious to try out Nico’s new power. Nico forced himself to smile, because he had to admit he was curious too, even if he was dying from exhaustion. “No, I mean it. I’ll be fine, we can take a break after we’ve tried out a few things.”

Nico was able to damn a log, a boulder, and a tree to Hades before his iPod alarm pulled him from Westover Hall and into the morning light of Hogwarts. It took him a full twenty minutes to get out of bed; the only thing that kept him from just falling back asleep was the thought of IMing Will. When he finally got dressed and made himself look halfway decent, it was 6:30 in the morning.

“If I’d known you’d take this long to IM me, I would’ve gotten some more sleep.” Despite Will’s sarcastic tone, Nico had to smile at the grin on his face.

“Seriously? You’ve been waking up at one for what? A month? If you’re not used to it by now, that’s your own fault, not mine.”

“Well, I’m so sorry I want to talk to my boyfriend. I don’t know why I do it, because I’ll tell you: he’s kind of a dick most of the time. But, he’s cute enough, so I keep him around for eye candy.”

Nico recoiled in disgust. “Eye candy? I cannot believe you just said that. What are you, fifty?”

“Eye candy, eye candy, eyeeeeee caaaandyyyyyy!” Will sang off-key and in his usual, screechy singing voice.

“Will! Stop!” Nico managed, after doubling over in laughter. “Gods, how are you the son of the music god again?”

“My singing is wonderful Neeks,” Will teased. “And don’t you forget it.”

They mostly chatted about camp, since Nico didn't want to think about Potions just yet. Instead, he enjoyed Will's funny stories about his step-siblings, his mother had surprised him with a visit the day before, so he'd been able to spend an afternoon in New York with his family. Janice and Cole Solace-Williams, the seven-year-old twin terrors, had apparently caused their fair share of troubles the day before, including the near destruction of Dylan's Candy Bar, and almost killing a few of those creepy mascots in Times Square. Seven came sooner than usual, forcing Nico to say good-bye and watch Will's image fade.

“I love you,” Nico whispered to the empty air where Will had just stood. “I’m sorry about all the lying, and the hiding, and the secret-keeping.”

_Maybe one day I’ll say that to his face._

The thoughts came suddenly, as he left to go wake up Blaise.

_Probably not. I’ll be too busy breaking up with him to manage an ‘I love you’._

Nico stopped just outside his dorm. He closed his eyes and sighed, calling back the feeling of Will’s lips against his own.

_It’s going to be a hard thing to give up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so Sara and Giulia and I have about 25 different inside jokes going on under the Google Drive comments throughout the various chapters, but this one was so hilarious I have to share it:
> 
> STORY:  
> “Anger,” Teddy confirmed. “You were angry at my mom when you used the spell first, then again just now when you did it again! All we have to do is get you angry, and you’ll be able to do anything!”
> 
> SARA:  
> Use the dark side, Nico...
> 
> GIULIA:  
> OMG that comment
> 
> LISSY:  
> It gets better when you realize that that means that Hades is Vader...
> 
> GIULIA:  
> OMG Hades
> 
> SARA:  
> I mean... Darth Vader = dark father...
> 
> **I know how this makes Giulia look, but she does plenty more than fangirl. She contributes her varying degrees of sass by screaming "conjunction junction" at me every time I have a run on sentence. Which is about 500 times per chapter. There, I got that disclaimer out the way!**
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	19. Edreubmodl's Yrma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy accidently gets invited to join Dumbledore's Army; a new discovery prompts Nico to renegotiate Annabeth's plans for the quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Mild Cursing  
> Word Count: 4225
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry, I know this chapter's up late again. Don't actually have an excuse... just that I'm in the midst of spring cleaning and completely forgot to upload until just now... oops.
> 
> Also, embarrassing typo I just corrected. On Chapter 17, I announced that the next fic I'd write would be "Starting Over Again," even though "Divided by Fate" got more votes. That's incorrect; I just confused the titles for some reason. DIVIDED BY FATE will be the next fic; right now it's looking like the first chapter will be released in mid-September of 2016 (this fic will end in the beginning of July). 
> 
> Between the two big stories, I'll be taking prompts for one-shots, and releasing some Easter Eggs about this fic - some one-shots that take place in the same universe, some commentary from me & the betas at certain parts, and (if I can convince her to) Viviana to do some artwork of different scenes from the fic. If you have any ideas about what you'd like to see, just shoot me an e-mail or comment or something. My email's always on my profile, and I respond to every comment I receive within a week if its posting. I want to know what you guys would like to see me do, after all, without ya'll I'm just shouting into the void over here.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

 

****

The morning started off with a bang - this time, not literally. When Percy walked into the common room before breakfast, Fred and George pulled him towards the announcements board. Both the twins exchanged a look after they read it, then glanced at Percy, and hid their expressions. 

"What is it?" Percy asked. 

"The notice," George answered. “Here, I'll read it. 'All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.  Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.'”

There was definitely something off-putting in George's voice that time. “You okay, man?” Percy inquired, watching for some kind of reaction from the twins. “You seem kind of worried about something.”

“He’s fine,” Fred replied quickly. “Come on, let’s go to breakfast.” 

The entire walk down, the twins carried a silent conversation. Percy did his best to figure out what was going on, but they let nothing slip. The second they entered the Great Hall, the twins zoned in on Harry Potter.

“Be right back," Fred told Percy, then rushed over to Harry with George. Curious, Percy followed. A small but growing group crowded Harry and his friends now, all with similarly worried expressions. He sat down close enough to them to eavesdrop, then loaded his plate with food to appear busy.

“Did you see it?”

“D’you reckon she knows?”

“What are we going to do?” 

They all stared at Harry, identifying him as their leader. He silenced them, then swept his eyes around the Great Hall. Percy lowered his eyes to his plate and busied himself with cutting his eggs.

“We’re going to do it anyway, of course,” Harry whispered.

_ Do what? _

“Knew you’d say that,” George said.

“The prefects as well?” Fred asked.

“Of course,” Hermione replied.

_ The prefects are doing what? What's going on?  _

“Here comes Ernie and Hannah Abbott.” Ron glanced over his shoulder. “And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith... and no one looks very spotty.”

_ Spotty? _

“Never mind spots, the idiots can’t come over here now, it’ll look really suspicious - sit down!” Hermione commanded to the approaching students. “Later! We’ll. Talk. To. You. Later!”

“I’ll tell Michael,” Ginny said impatiently. “The fool, honestly...”

Fred and George left as the crowd dispersed, and sat next to Percy. “I’m starving,” George announced, filling his plate with various pastries.

“What did you mean spotty?" Percy questioned. "And what’s going on?”

Both twins adopted their signature innocent look. “What do you mean?” George asked.

“You guys need to learn how to check your surroundings.” Percy gave his signature troublemaker smile, the one that used to make every teacher wary. “I overheard everything, now spill.”

Fred and George held another silent conversation. With the added context, Percy could guess what they were discussing.

Fred: Should we tell him?

George: Harry said not to tell anyone.

Fred: But Percy wouldn't tell anyone.

George: Fine, tell him, but don’t look at me when you get jinxed by a fifteen-year-old.

“Come with us,” Fred whispered. The twins guided Percy outside the hall, then told him everything. While Percy had been off horcrux hunting, there had been a trip to Hogsmeade. There, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gathered some people to start a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts group, to aid in the war against Riddle. Harry acted as their leader and teacher, but they still had to find a meeting place before practice could begin. “You can’t tell anyone, not even your cousin or girlfriend,” Fred finished. “Harry would kill us if he knew you even knew - ”

“Because he hates Nico,” Percy agreed. “So he also hates Annabeth and me by default. Yeah, I get it.”

“So are you joining us or what?” George asked.

_ Shit. I can’t join, I can’t do magic!  _

“Um, I don’t think - ”

“Of course he’s joining,” Fred said. “You can’t just not do it with You-Know-Who on the loose, right? He’s not going to stay away from you just because you have that awesome magic pen-sword.”

“I - um - I guess so,” Percy stammered.

_ Idiot! I’m an idiot! I’m a huge, half-blood idiot! _

Fred and George high fived him just as Harry and Ron exited the Great Hall, Angelina desperately running behind. “Harry! Ron! Fred! George! Percy!” Harry glared at Percy. He leaned to whisper in Angelina's ear, but Angelina cut him off. “You realize she’s including Quidditch in this? We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!”

“What?” Harry asked in shock.

“No way,” Ron exclaimed, appalled.

“She can’t - ” Percy began, but Angelina cut him off too.

“You read the sign, it mentions teams too!” Angelina cried, then turned to Harry. “So listen, Harry... I am saying this for the last time... Please, please don’t lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!”

“Too late,” Ron mumbled, not meeting Angelina’s eye. “Harry got detention in Potions yesterday from Umbridge.”

“WHAT?!” Angelina looked close to tears, she was so stressed.

“With di Angelo,” Harry muttered.

“You were bullying my cousin again?!” Percy accused, narrowing his eyes at Harry. 

_ Why can’t that stupid kid just leave Nico alone? _

“I just asked him a couple questions and he drew a bloody sword at me!” Harry argued, but Percy wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

“He wouldn’t draw a sword if you weren’t - ” 

Angelina pulled them apart before the fight could escalate. “Stop it! You both are on the same Quidditch team, which means you need to  _ play nice _ . Now Harry, don’t piss Umbridge off anymore, I’m begging you, just do your detention and don’t cause a scene. Got it?”

“Okay, okay,” Harry shrugged her off, then stormed away with Ron at his side.

Beyond getting the entire story of what happened at potions from Nico and his friends, Percy's day was uneventful. Percy, still furious at Harry for his unprovoked attack, was half-glad that the Quidditch team was temporarily disbanded. Without Umbridge's approval, practice was pointless, so Percy didn't have to face Harry at all. 

As usual, his luck didn't last. Angelina got permission to reform the Quidditch team the next day. To make matters worse, Zeus had a field day on the pitch, creating a monster storm to mess with Percy's flying. It was so bad that he, Fred, and George debated using the Skiving Snackboxes - an invention of theirs that faked illness - to get out of practice.

“ - but I bet she’d know what we’d done,” Fred reasoned, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “If only I hadn’t offered to sell her some Puking Pastilles yesterday - ”

“We could try the Fever Fudge,” George offered, “No one’s seen that yet - ”

“Does it work?” Percy asked hopefully. The sound of rain and wind only got louder against the locker room’s roof.

“Well, yeah,” Fred began, “Your temperature’ll go right up - ”

“ - but you get these massive pus-filled boils too,” George finished, “And we haven’t worked out how to get rid of them yet.”

Percy inspected the twins; he knew they tested their inventions on themselves. “I can’t see any boils...”

“No, well, you wouldn’t,” Fred assured him, “They’re not in a place we generally display to the public, but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the - ”

“All right, everyone, listen up,” Angelina yelled, entering the locker room from the Captain’s office. “I know it’s not ideal weather, but there’s a good chance we’ll be playing Slytherin in conditions like this, so it’s a good idea to work out how we’re going to cope with them. Harry, didn’t you do something to your glasses to stop the rain fogging them up when we played Hufflepuff in that storm?”

“Hermione did it,” Harry said. He pulled out his wand, tapped his glasses and said, “Impervius!”

“I think we all ought to try that,” Angelina said. “If we could just keep the rain off our faces it would really help visibility - all together, come on - Impervius! Okay. Let’s go.” Percy shot George a look, and he, thankfully, cast the spell for Percy. “Come on, you two!” Angelina called. They grabbed their things and followed Angelina out of the locker room. 

Percy willed himself to get wet, so no one asked any questions. So, he was as cold and soaked as the rest of the team by the time they reached the pitch. His hair stuck to his forehead, and knee-high in mud, he had a hard time just staying on his broom. The sun sank below the hills and sheets of rain poured from the sky, and despite the spell on his face, he couldn’t see a thing.. Looking around, Percy knew that the entire team had a similar issue. 

Except one person, that is. “All right, on my whistle!” Angelina shouted.

Percy kicked off his broom from the ground, spraying mud everywhere. He struggled to stay upright as he flew upwards; the wind whipped him around in the air like a deflating balloon. He hovered above the stands for a bit, trying to make the plays out in the rain with no luck, then took Angelina's place so she could coach the team. No one could see anything; it took about an hour for Angelina to realize that training in these conditions wasn’t going to work, so she let them go. Even though she insisted that it hadn't been a complete waste of time, the rest of the team knew better. Fred and George looked especially annoyed, complaining to Percy as they toweled themselves dry.

“I think a few of mine have ruptured,” Fred moaned.

“Mine haven’t.” George paused to wince in pain. “They’re throbbing like mad... feel bigger if anything...”

“OUCH!” Harry yowled in pain, pressing his own towel to his face.

“Harry? What's up?” Concerned voices rose from multiple areas of the locker room. Percy's wasn't among them.

Harry removed the towel from his face and glanced around at his teammates. “Nothing,” he muttered, “I - poked myself in the eye, that’s all...”

Fred, George, and Percy exchanged looks, but left the locker room pretty soon after that. With the hours of homework ahead of them, they'd be up half the night at least.

The next day, Percy had trouble keeping his eyes open. As he'd predicted, Ancient Runes alone kept him up until two in the morning. The day passed in a haze of exhaustion, and he didn't attend lunch, electing instead to take a nap. So, by the time the sun set, Percy was both tired and hungry. Plus, he felt like he was coming down with a cold, no doubt helped along by his adventure in his father's flash flood the day before. Percy didn't know for sure, but he suspected that Zeus had gotten a few ideas from Noah's Ark and tested it the day before.

All in all, Percy wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep until June. But, before he got that much-needed rest, the previous day's mistake came back to bite him.

“Harry found a secret room to hold the defense group in. First meeting’s right now.” With that quick explanation, the twins pulled Percy out of his dorm room and into the halls of Hogwarts. Too tired to pay much attention to where they were going, Percy got the shock of his life when Fred and George pulled him into a small but growing crowd. In front of him stood an area he, Annabeth, and Nico had been searching for months.

The wall horcrux.

“Oh my gods,” Percy whispered. All this time, it wasn’t a wall, it was a secret room! No wonder it had alluded them, they couldn't do magic, so they couldn't access it! 

Harry stared at the wall's center, and a polished door appeared. One by one, the crowd entered the room, following Harry and his friends. Percy thanked Poseidon for his good luck, because for the first time in his life, his mistake turned out to be a good thing.

In his head, Percy did what he assumed Annabeth would do: review what he knew, and try to prepare for what he would find. Not knowing what else he'd need, he ran through the list of horcruxes in his head while he waited in line to enter the secret room.

_ Horcrux #1 - Riddle's Diary. Destroyed. _ __  
_ Horcruxes #2 and #3 - The Ring and The Cup. In Annabeth's trunk. _ __  
_ Horcrux #4 - The Locket. Missing. _ _  
_ __ Horcruxes #5, #6, and #7 - Unknown.

_ I have to get Nico in here as soon as I can. If he can search the room, he'd be able to find the horcrux in a second, whether he knows what he's looking for or not. If it's the locket, though... maybe I could get it somehow without anyone noticing...? _

Percy reached the front of the line. Once inside the chamber, he scanned everything to locate any possible horcrux.  Wooden bookcases lined the walls, each book within it so thick that Percy winced at the mere sight of them. Big, silk cushions on the floor sat on the floor instead of seats, reminding Percy of his old school, Meriwether College Prep. At the end of the room, Percy noticed a shelf with enough odd objects to hide a horcrux. On closer inspection, he saw nothing of value - just a hundred different magical objects whizzing, blinking, spinning, and making Percy's eyes hurt.

With nothing else to look at, Percy decided just to get Nico in there as soon as possible, and sat next to Dean Thomas on one of the cushions. 

At the sound of Percy's footsteps, Harry turned and narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here, Jackson?” The contempt in Harry's voice irked Percy, made him want to fight back even more. He'd never gotten his chance at Quidditch practice the day before.

“Fred and George invited me.” Percy kept his tone even and cold, hoping to set Harry off. 

It worked.

Red in the face, Harry pointed at the door behind him. “Get out.” 

Everyone watched them; Percy wasn’t about to back down, even if he did want to leave. He’d faced worse foes than some fifteen-year-old follower of Hecate. He wasn’t about to let that kid win.

“I’m here, I know all about this group, and I’m not going to tell Umbridge. So I don’t see what your problem is.” Again, Percy kept himself calm, a voice of reason. It was easier than he'd thought it would be, mostly because the calmer Percy was, the angrier Harry got. That in and of itself was a pretty good motivator.

“My problem is that you’re a Death Eater!” Harry snarled. Everyone around him either went wide-eyed or looked at Harry like he was insane.

“And you’re paranoid,” Percy shot back, doing his best to sound more exasperated than hostile. That sounded a lot like an accusation, and Percy hated accusations without truth to them. He'd gotten enough of that with Smelly Gabe.

“He’s not a Death Eater!” George sounded more offended than Percy felt. Along with Fred, George stood from beside Ron and moved to Percy's right. “What’s your problem, Harry?”

“If he's not a Death Eater, he has nothing to hide," Harry insisted, still glaring at Percy. "So, where were you this past weekend?”

“They were visiting home, Harry," Angelina answered him. "Dumbledore told us all that the morning after they left, in the Great Hall, remember?" 

"Yeah," Dean added. "You know, Harry, not everything has to be about You-Know-Who. Just let him stay. He's done nothing.”

Percy shook his head at his fellow Gryffindors. “I’m not going to stick around and try and please someone who's out to get my family and me for no good reason. I’ll see you guys in the common room, thanks for trying.” 

When he turned to leave, a sparkle caught Percy's eye. With a quick, unnoticeable glance, he found a jeweled sword hidden in a shadowy corner. He felt a powerful aura around it, something pulling him towards it and willing him to pick it up. It called to him, like a god's symbol of power, the way Aphrodite's scarf affected him, or his father's trident. Not wanting to draw any more attention to himself, he tore his eyes away and left as Harry's first lesson began.

Improvising a plan, Percy hid in the first boys bathroom he could find. After killing a few hours by capping and uncapping Riptide, he heard the faint voices of students in the hallway. After the sounds had faded away, Percy crept out of hiding place and towards the wall horcrux. Just as he'd hoped, the area looked deserted. 

_ I need to get back into that other room. Do whatever it is you do and make the door come back. Please, I don't know how you work, but I seriously need to get my hands on that sword, and I can't wait for the next club meeting to get it. _

Thank the gods, the door reappeared. After a quick prayer of thanks to both Poseidon and Hecate, Percy walked in and looked around. The room was exactly the same as before, besides a banner that read "Edreubmodl's Yrma". After staring at it a little longer, Percy translated it to "Dumbledore’s Army". Again, his eyes fell on the sword, unmoved from its hidden corner. He walked towards it slowly, wary of its tempting hue. 

With a careful hand, Percy grabbed the hilt. Nothing bad happened, so he tossed it from hand to hand, testing its weight, watching the light dance on its polished blade. It felt balanced in his arms, about as balanced as Riptide. 

_ I need to keep this.  _

That was an issue. He couldn't pocket this sword like Riptide, but he had no belt or sheath like Annabeth and Nico. With Riptide's maneuverability, he'd never needed one before. 

After a quick look around, Percy located a bag near the door. Though it was way too small to fit the sword, he tried anyway, and found that the bag was bigger on the inside. 

_ Huh. Maybe it's enchanted. Today's my lucky day, I guess. _

Percy left, not wanting to tempt fate by sticking around to get caught. With the bagged sword in his pocket, he snuck back to his dorm and crawled into bed before anyone took notice of him. He passed out the moment his head hit the pillow, still dressed in his robes.

**____________________NICO____________________**

****

Percy ran up to Nico before he even had a chance to sit at the Slytherin table for breakfast. “Nico! Annabeth’s outside, we’re going for a walk.” Without waiting for an answer, Percy grabbed his arm and dragged him outside.

“Percy - get off - what in Hades’ name - ”

Despite his protests, Percy pulled Nico all the way to the Headmaster’s Office, where Annabeth sat, waiting with crossed arms. Behind her watchful eyes, Nico saw just as much confusion as he felt, along with the same level of annoyance. Dumbledore was absent, most likely getting breakfast in the Great Hall. Did he even know Percy had commandeered his room?

_ Probably not. Percy doesn't exactly ask permission for stuff. Ever. _

“Can you tell us what’s going on, seaweed brain?” Annabeth sounded impatient, and definitely irritated.

“I found something big,” Percy announced. He launched into his story of the night before, ending with the acquisition of the jeweled sword. When he removed it from his little bag and held it up for them to see, Annabeth gasped in recognition.

“That’s the Sword of Gryffindor! I saw it in a glass case during my lessons with Dumbledore! But, why isn’t it still in here?” Percy shrugged in response; Annabeth scanned the room, looking for the missing case.

Nico’s eyes never left the blade, instead electing to follow every swish of the sword. He felt nervous about it, even though he knew they needed to the sword to complete the quest. He supposed that was just the powerful aura, since that sword was one of Hecate's chosen items, and she did have a rivalry with Hades. Even if it wasn't a dangerous rivalry - like between his father and the other Big Three gods - any rival of Hades put Nico on edge.

"Remember what I read to you," Teddy interjected, scattering Nico's train of thought. With his words, memories flooded into his mind, the library book, the passageways, and -

“The room where everything is hidden!” All eyes fell on Nico with the sudden exclamation. “That has to be it. That’s where the horcrux is, and that’s what the room was! It’s the Room of Requirement.”

“The room of what?” Percy asked, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“I read something a little while ago. There’s this myth about the Room of Requirement; it's a room at Hogwarts that only appears when you need it, with everything you could possibly want inside. That sword is one of the blades that can destroy horcruxes. You needed it most, so it came to you. It probably also helps that you’re a Gryffindor, and the sword is your house’s symbol of power.”

“You  _ read  _ something?” Percy asked in shock.

“Someone read it to me,” Nico corrected himself quickly. “By, um, Blaise. He likes that kind of thing.”

“But this is great news!” Annabeth cried. “We can destroy the horcruxes now. I have them in my bag - I didn't want them to go missing while I was out of my dorm.”

She groped in her bag for a few seconds, then pulled out the ring and cup. At the sight of them, Nico’s heart started to pound. One thought dominated his mind: he couldn’t let that sword touch the horcruxes.

_ Snap out of it! It’s the aura of the horcruxes! You have to destroy them - with that sword - or you'll fail your quest and put countless lives in danger! _

"Don’t," Teddy instructed. "You can't."

Half of him cried out in agreement with Teddy, but Nico pushed those thoughts from his mind. He was stronger than any horcrux, any follower of Hecate, any aura or curse or magic. He wouldn't let any mortal get the better of him, no matter what god they served.

_ Why not, Teddy? Isn't that the whole point of the quest? _

"We can use them," Teddy explained. "Just trust me, and say what I tell you to."

“Stop!” Nico shouted, just as Percy brought the sword down on the cup. He stopped mid-swing, the blade inches from the cup's brim. With inquisitive expressions, they both turned to stare at him.

“Nico?” Annabeth asked. “What do you mean stop?”

“We can use them,” Nico repeated, echoing Teddy’s words. “Think about it. Riddle’s afraid to die, which means those horcruxes are a comfort and a safeguard for him. Annabeth, you said that yourself. If we keep them, if we hide them, we can draw Riddle out. Keep the sword, keep the horcruxes, and lock them away in a place even Riddle can’t get them. After we’ve got the rest of the horcruxes, we can use them to get Riddle to face us, and destroy them after we defeat him. If we get rid of them, we’ve got no leverage. Riddle will never face us or get close enough for us to bring his soul to my father because he won’t want to die. It makes sense.”

Percy and Annabeth stared at him in silence, sword and horcruxes still clutched in their hands.

“That’s… brilliant,” Percy whispered in awe.

“That’s stupid,” Annabeth said. “Nico, it’s safer just to get rid of them now. We’ll use other methods to draw Riddle out. If he gets ahold of these - ”

“He won’t," Nico insisted. Even if it wasn't his idea, he agreed wholeheartedly with Teddy. That tactic made a lot more sense than relying on other, unknown methods to find Riddle. "Besides, Annabeth, he won’t even know where we’re keeping them. He won't even know  _ that  _ we're keeping them!”

“Where would we even hide them?” Annabeth asked.

“The Room of Requirement.” Nico decided. “Riddle can’t get into there; it's impossible as long as we ask the room to only show for us. Besides, Hogwarts is our best bet. Riddle's afraid of Dumbledore, plus, he can only enter Hogwarts by frontal assault. He’s not stupid enough to do that, because it would reveal to the Ministry that he's alive.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Percy chimed it. “It makes sense.”

“I don’t like it,” Annabeth argued.

“But you’re outvoted,” Percy pointed out.

“Shut up, seaweed brain!” Annabeth cried angrily, then stormed out. But, fair was fair, so she left the horcruxes behind her. After giving her a minute's head start (angry Annabeth scared everyone), Percy and Nico made their way to the Room of Requirement to hide the horcruxes. Nico felt happier than he had in a long time now that the quest was making headway. Between that new development and his growing skill at 'damn to Hades', nothing could ruin his mood.

Not even tomorrow's detention with Umbridge and Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so since it was so popular last week, I have another little commentary session from this week's chapter. I actually have two, since they're both pretty short.
> 
> #1 -  
> STORY: ... that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.  
> GIULIA: I just had a thought about OOtP. Uxbridge effectively canceled Quidditch. It's literally been ten years since I've read OOtP and I just thought of that NOW. That's sad.  
> LISSY: Remember: you can't just cancel Quidditch. It always comes back.  
> GIULIA: Yes it does. Viva la Quidditch.
> 
> #2 -  
> STORY: Percy willed himself to get wet, so no one asked any questions.  
> SARA: Percy's the real waterbender here.  
> LISSY: Yaaaas
> 
> Also, I'm totally stealing "Viva la Quidditch" from Giulia. Will it appear in the fic? If I can manage it.
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	20. Where Girly Girls Go to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Quidditch Match of the season takes place; Harry and Nico attend their detention with Dolores Umbridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Mild Violence/Imagery, Cursing  
> Word Count: 4261
> 
>  
> 
> Look who managed to get this up at a reasonable time? Also, do you like my new profile pic? I mentioned I'd change it to my headshot a few weeks ago, and, so, there it is! Now, if you ever run into me on the street, you'll know who to punch in the face for making all your favorite characters suffer. :P
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

 

****

The Saturday of the first Quidditch match, Percy realized with a jolt that it was already November. He and his friends had been at Hogwarts for two months already, and the quest was nowhere near complete. Percy knew that Nico hated how slow the quest was going, but, well, Percy liked Hogwarts. Fred and George were nice, Quidditch was awesome, and he didn’t have to learn "school" things like math, science, or English. If TVs and computers worked here, Percy would never want to leave. 

At breakfast, Percy approached Angelina about the game. He was just a sub, but Katie had been complaining about a sore throat for the past couple of days; she'd spent the night in the hospital wing with a fever. If she weren't able to play today, he'd be playing chaser for her.

"Percy!" Angelina found him in the Great Hall minutes into the meal. "Katie's still sick; Madam Pomfrey said she'll be okay, but she needs rest. I've been arguing with Katie for the last ten minutes. She wanted to play, even though she can barely stand. You can fill in, can't you?"

" 'Course," Percy agreed.

Angelina breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it was a good idea having you on the team. All right, tell the others to meet me on the pitch in twenty minutes. I need to figure out the final details of today's game from Madam Hooch."

Percy did so, then scarfed down a quick breakfast. Excitement and adrenaline pumped through his veins; he was going to play for the first time in front of an audience. The months of training were fun, but now this counted towards something. Just like the difference between Camp Half-Blood and questing, something was on the line.

Twenty minutes later, Angelina addressed the team before the game. “Okay, I’ve only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin,” she said, eyes on a piece of parchment. “Last year’s Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague’s replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can fly particularly well. They’re two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don’t know much about them - ”

“We do,” Harry and Ron announced in unison.

“Well, they don’t look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from another.” Angelina put her parchment in her pocket, and looked at Harry with a dry smile. “But then, I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts.”

“Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mold,” Harry assured her. 

Percy could hear everyone entering the stands now. He noticed singing as well, though it was too garbled to make out any lyrics. Annabeth and Nico were up there, ready to watch him either prove his athletic prowess, or make a complete fool of himself. He was hoping for the first option; if he messed up, his friends would no doubt tell the camp, and Jason would  _ never _ shut up about it.

“It’s time,” Angelina proclaimed, looking at her watch. “Come on everyone... good luck.”

They filed out of the locker room single file, brooms at their sides. Percy still heard singing, but now it was almost entirely drowned out by the cheering and whistling crowd. He saw Annabeth with Cho Chang, waving to him with a smile. Nico stood off to the side of the Slytherin section, earbuds in his ears and looking downright miserable, but he still gave Percy a thumbs up when Percy caught his eye.

The Slytherin team entered the pitch, silver crown-shaped badges pinned to their robes. While they were all pretty big and ugly, like Ares kids, none looked half as bright as even Clarisse. Malfoy and his goons looked the smartest among them, and even that was giving Malfoy way too much credit.

_ This should be an easy match. _

“Captains shake hands,” Madam Hooch ordered. Angelina and Montague, the Slytherin captain, walked towards each other and grabbed hands. Montague tried to crush Angelina’s fingers, but she earned Percy’s permanent respect by not wincing. Madam Hooch blew her whistle. “Mount your brooms!”

With another blow of the whistle, Percy kicked off and shot into the sky. Half a second later, the Quaffle and Bludgers raced out of their box, and the game began.

Lee Jordan started speaking into his wand, announcing the game like on TV. “And it’s Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me - ”

“JORDAN!” Professor McGonagall yelled.

“Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest - and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Montague, she’s - ouch - been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that’s a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet’s away - ” 

Percy heard booing and more garbled singing as Alicia raced towards the Slytherin goal. 

“ - dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Alicia - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”

Lee paused, and Percy heard the lyrics of the song for the first time: 

__ Weasley cannot save a thing,  
__ He cannot block a single ring,  
__ That’s why Slytherins all sing:  
__ Weasley is our King.  
__ Weasley was born in a bin,  
__ He always lets the Quaffle in,  
_ Weasley will make sure we win,  
_ __ Weasley is our King.

“ - and Alicia passes back to Angelina!” Lee shouted, trying to block out the singing. “Come on now, Angelina - looks like she’s got just the Keeper to beat! - SHE SHOOTS - SHE - aaaah...” 

The Slytherin keeper saved the goal. A rival chaser had the Quaffle now. Percy raced after it, but he couldn’t reach it in time. The ball got closer and closer to Ron…

__ Weasley is our King,  
__ Weasley is our King,  
_ He always lets the Quaffle in,  
_ __ Weasley is our King.

“ - and it’s Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he’s out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead - ”

_ Weasley cannot save a thing,  
_ _ He cannot block a single ring _

“ - so it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team - come on, Ron!” 

Ron dived and missed; the Quaffle soared through the middle hoop, and the Slytherins started to cheer. Percy glanced at Nico, but he couldn’t make the son of Hades out from so far away. Was Nico cheering for his house, or booing for Percy? 

_ Probably isn’t even paying attention. _

Percy laughed under his breath at his own thoughts. He needed something to laugh at, after Ron's mistake.

_ Game's still young, Jackson. Just focus, we can still win this. _

“Slytherin score!” Lee announced. “So that’s 10-0 to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron...”

_ WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,  
_ _ HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN _

“ - and Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Percy Jackson taking up the pitch - ” 

The singing was so loud in Percy's ears that it almost drowned out Lee. Not that it mattered; his entire mind kept focused on the Quaffle under his arm as he raced towards the Slytherin goal.

__ WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,  
__ WEASLEY IS OUR KING  
__ WEASLEY IS OUR KING,  
_ WEASLEY IS OUR KING,  
_ __ WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN

A Bludger came out of nowhere when Percy was halfway down the pitch, knocking the Quaffle from his hands. When his scattered thoughts returned, the Quaffle was nowhere in sight.

“ - and it’s Warrington again, who passes to Pucey, Pucey’s off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can’t - but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Percy Jackson - er- drops it too - so that’s Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he’s off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!”

_ WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING _

“ - and Pucey’s dodged Alicia again, and he’s heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!” 

Ron missed again. Percy groaned under his breath along with the crowd. Only the Slytherins, screaming and singing at the top of their lungs, seemed to be enjoying themselves.

_ THAT’S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:  
_ _ WEASLEY IS OUR KING. _

Within another ten minutes of gameplay, Harry still hadn’t found the Snitch, and Ron let in another two goals. Percy felt hot and tired, but he played as hard as he could. He wasn’t going to give up. 

“ - and Percy Jackson of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Percy, and he throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now Angelina - GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s 40-10, 40-10 to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle...”

Percy heard a lion’s roar amongst the cheering and searched in vain for its source. 

_ Who in Hades brings a lion to a Quidditch match?  _

“ - Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey - Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Jackson, this looks good - I mean bad - Jackson’s hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it’s Pucey in possession again...”

__ WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,  
_ HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,  
_ __ WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Harry dive. He'd finally found the Snitch. Malfoy watched and followed, soon they were neck-and-neck. Harry grabbed the Snitch a millisecond before Malfoy, and refused to let it escape his grip. Screams enveloped the pitch as Madam Hooch blew her whistle to end the game. Percy raised an arm above his head and whooped in delight as he lowered his broom to the ground. They’d won. 

As soon as the euphoria came, it left. A Bludger hit Harry hard, prompting most of the team to run over to check on him. Percy landed, then went with his teammates to check on Harry. As much as the kid annoyed him, that Bludger looked nasty.

But, something - or someone, actually - kept him from the Gryffindor Seeker.

“You did it!” Annabeth yelled, running up to Percy and kissing him in excitement. Percy wrapped his arms around her and lifted her feet off the ground, joy bubbling in his stomach once again.

“Gods, guys, stop with the PDA please,” Nico requested dryly. Percy shot him down with a wave of his hand; he could  _ feel _ Nico's sarcastic eye roll. Annabeth pulled away and laughed, her face flushed from adrenaline. Percy, one arm still wrapped around Annabeth's shoulder, turned to Nico. He was staring at the two of them, eyebrow raised in a 'you done?' kind of expression, one earbud still plugged into his right ear. “Nice passes, Jackson. You were good up there.”

Percy snorted. “Stop, you weren’t even paying attention.”

Nico shrugged, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “Not my scene. Come on, I’ve got a few more hours till detention. Let’s see if we can find the wall you-know-what.” 

Percy pouted. "I just won a Quidditch game! Can't we take the afternoon off?"

Annabeth elbowed him, her good-natured smile turned into a chuckle. "Come on, Seaweed Brain. Maybe your luck will rub off on the quest."

"All work and no play..." Percy complained, but followed his friends inside the castle.

Together, they found the Room of Requirement, and entered the DA Room. They tore the place apart for at least two hours, but couldn’t find anything. After another forty-five minutes, they admitted defeat.

"It's probably in another form of this room." Annabeth sounded pretty frustrated at the prospect.

"That's helpful," Percy said. "This room could have a million forms."

"I know..." Annabeth sighed. "It's going to be impossible to find the horcrux unless we know exactly what to look for."

"We'll figure something out," Nico assured them, though he didn't sound convincing. "I have to get to detention anyway, so I'll do some research later tonight and see if I can come up with something."

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows, eyes following Nico as he walked away. "Research? How...?" The door's slam cut her off.

"No use hanging around here," Percy decided. "Come on, Annabeth. We've got another hour before dinner. Let's go for a walk by the lake, or something."

Annabeth seemed distracted, eyes still on the shut door. "No, I have... things to do. I'll see you later." She grabbed her bag and left too, leaving Percy alone in the DA room. With a sigh, he left too.

_ Like we didn't even win the game. _

Defeated, Percy walked back to the Gryffindor common room in silence. He cheered himself up with the hope that maybe he could help Fred and George with one of their inventions. When reached the common room and heard that Harry, Fred, and George had all been kicked off the team, he just gave up trying to feel happy and worked on an Arithmancy essay. 

It wasn’t one of his better days, to say the least.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

****

Nico dropped his stuff off in the Slytherin common room right in the middle of Malfoy's gloating. “And, Montague only got lines. With those blood-traitors gone, we’ve got the cup in the bag.”

Nico walked over to Hestia, doing homework by the fire. “What does he mean, ‘lines’? And what are blood-traitors?”

Hestia looked up from her work. “Umbridge. The Weasley twins and Potter fought with Montague, got kicked off the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They were some of their best players; now Johnson has to find replacements.”

Nico didn’t know how to react. He was glad Potter got in trouble, but it still seemed unfair. “And Montague only got lines?”

“Yup. Umbridge was a Slytherin; I guess she likes us a little better.”

_ Great. We’re the teacher’s pets. _

“You don’t seem all that upset about it,” Nico noted.

Hestia, who'd gone back to her homework, jotted something down before responding. “Like I said, it’s unfair, but now the best players on Gryffindor are out of the game. We might actually get a chance at the Quidditch Cup this year."

“Oh.” Nico didn’t care much about Quidditch. The flying brooms were cool, and Percy was on the team, but he’d never been a huge sports fan. He didn’t go to mortal school, so he'd never played on a school team, plus, he never watched TV or anything like that. It just wasn’t his thing. The most he’d done in the sports department was swordfight. One-on-one basketball with Will too, if getting creamed by his boyfriend within minutes counted as a sport.

“Don’t you have detention?” Hestia asked, smirking, her eyes still on the textbook.

“Yeah," Nico groaned. "I just came to put my things down. Is Percy still on the team?”

“Yes, and stop stalling. Just go or you’ll get in even more trouble.” 

Though Nico knew she was right, he let out a long, sarcastic sigh. Hestia shushed him, so, with one last glare, he left for his dorm room to gather his things for detention. He had no experience with detention; Westover Hall had liked push-ups better. He stuffed his sword into his bag, then left for Umbridge's office.

_ If I need anything, she'll give it to me, right? _

The walk to her office was too short. Nico dreaded any minute he had to spend with that lady, especially when the sole point was to induce boredom. But, that was nothing compared to when he entered her room. As he looked around, he could only think one thing:

_ Is this lady serious? _

Everything was over-the-top cute: pink loomed in every corner, doilies covered every possible surface, dozens of dried flowers sat in vases, and pictures of kittens covered every inch of wall space. Nico resisted the urge to puke; this place looked like it was where Aphrodite's kids went to die.

Harry was already there, writing lines on a piece of parchment, one hand out of sight under the desk. 

“Ah, Mr. di Angelo,” Umbridge greeted him in her sugar-sweet voice. “Come in.” 

Nico hovered by the door, waiting for directions. “You’ll be doing lines with a special quill of mine," Umbridge instructed. "Come right here.” Nico approached her desk, and saw the large, black quill in Umbridge's hand.

“Um..." Nico mumbled, staring at his feet. Percy said that the best way to survive detention was to keep quiet, but the writing posed a bit of an issue. "I... can’t write.”

Umbridge waved him away, misunderstanding him. “You won’t need any ink with this quill.”

“No, Professor Umbridge. I’m dyslexic. I can’t write, period.” He buried his annoyance deep in his stomach; he didn't want to lose control. He'd end up telling Umbridge to go fuck herself, and get in even more trouble.

Umbridge smiled again, making her toad-like face more hostile. She mumbled an incantation and tapped the quill with her wand; it glowed blue, then black again. “There. Now it will write any word you tell it to. I assume you can speak, yes?”

“I can manage talking,” Nico replied through gritted teeth.

Umbridge's smile widened as he took her quill. “Now, listen to me, Mr. di Angelo. You still have that sword only because I have orders straight from the Minister of American Magic herself not to confiscate it. But, Hogwarts is safe. Britain is safe. There are no dangers here; the Ministry deals with all dangers. There is never any need for you to use a sword, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Nico lied.

“Good. Now that sword - along with any swords your friends might have - will stay in the dorms at all times. If I see them out, the consequences will be… severe.” Umbridge motioned for Nico to sit next to Harry, who’d stayed hunched over his work the entire time. “You will write ‘I am safe in Britain’, Mr. di Angelo.”

“'I am safe in Britain,'" Nico repeated, walking to his desk. "Got it.” 

Umbridge picked up a textbook, eyes watching Nico from over its top. Nico reached the desk, sat down, grabbed a piece of parchment, put the quill on top, and started to say the words. The quill wrote the sentence in dark red ink, and - and something else happened. A searing pain flared on the back of Nico’s hand, identical to the sensation of his cutting. Nico gasped in a mix of shock, pain, and relief; he realized with a jolt how many days had passed since the Horcrux hunt. He hadn't cut in almost a week. His pent up anger and frustration numbed with the pain, and the desire to cut more, to feel less, hit him with unbearable urgency.

At his gasp, Umbridge smiled, still watching him over her textbook. “Do you need something, Mr. di Angelo?”

“N - no,” Nico stammered. He lowered his eyes to the one small sentence on his parchment, written in his own blood. “I am safe in Britain,” Nico whispered again, trying not to sound eager. As the blissful pain consumed him, his eyes fluttered closed. Then, he remembered that he wasn’t alone, and forced them open again. His heart started to pound and his mind worked on overdrive. What if Umbridge or Harry found out about his deepest secret? He couldn’t stop writing the lines without arousing suspicion; besides, the pain felt so good… better than usual…

_ Snap out of it! _

He whispered the sentence again, and watched more of his blood leak out the end of the black quill. When the pain came, he swallowed hard, doing his best to fake dread with every repetition. But, in his mind, all his fears and worries poured out of him. It was exactly what he needed. Exactly what he needed.

** ____________________ **HARRY** ____________________ **

 

****

When di Angelo gasped the first time, Harry assumed it was from the pain. He’d acted the same at his first detention, shocked, scared, and dreading each movement of the quill. 

However, something seemed different with di Angelo. 

Harry kept his head over his own lines, dreading each stroke as he wrote ‘I must not tell lies’ over and over again. The cuts on his hand would scar at this rate, but, Harry was prepared for it, at least.

Di Angelo… was not. Harry heard his shuddered gasps and ragged breaths as he mumbled his sentence over and over again. Again, at first, Harry assumed it came from his pain. Umbridge was oblivious, sitting at her desk, out of earshot, but Harry noticed everything. Not that he tried; he was just close enough to hear, and focusing on di Angelo kept his mind off his own throbbing hand.

Everything fell into place near the end of the night. After hours of torture, Harry needed a break. He stopped for a second, grimacing and holding his bloody hand. At that moment, he realized that di Angelo wasn't working either. At least, Harry couldn't hear his whispers. 

First, Harry glanced Umbridge, to see if she'd noticed. She hadn't; she was just sitting at her desk, reading her useless textbook. 

After that, he looked at di Angelo, and a wave of repulsion crashed in his stomach. 

The Death Eater wasn’t clutching his bleeding hand and grimacing in pain; no, he wasn't in pain. His eyes shut tight, his lip bit in...  _ pleasure?!  _ After a second, di Angelo caught himself and looked around, first at Umbridge, then Harry, who lowered his head back to his parchment. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched di Angelo give an inaudible sigh of relief, then went back to work with a fake look of pain.

_ He likes it. He likes pain. He likes cutting. He’s a bloody psychopath.  _

Harry fought the urge to throw up; who in Merlin’s name enjoyed bleeding over and over again? This revelation explained everything: why di Angelo carried that sword around, why he disappeared, why he acted so secretive. Harry had assumed it had to do with his Death Eater father, but now… maybe that wasn’t all.

The rest of the detention passed by in a blur. Harry kept thinking about all the times di Angelo had run away, sword in hand. That first day on the train, when he went to the bathroom and tried to kill Harry for following him. In the Great Hall, after the hat had screamed from one of di Angelo's memories. It made so much sense now; di Angelo liked pain the way Voldemort liked killing. Of course he ran straight to the Dark Lord; he was insane, evil, bloodthirsty. 

A Death Eater gift-wrapped for Lord Voldemort himself.

“Let me see your hands,” Umbridge requested, closing her textbook. di Angelo stopped muttering, and the quill fell on the parchment. Disappointment flashed on his face for a microsecond, then, he faked relief. Umbridge looked at his bleeding hand, and smiled. “I think that’s enough. Remember tonight, Mr. di Angelo, the next time you want to draw a sword on someone.” When she said someone, Harry got the feeling she meant ‘the minister’. For once, she suspected the right person. 

Harry showed her his hands as well, prompting the same toad-like smile from her. Then, she sent them both on their way.

Harry didn’t talk to di Angelo until they were far enough from Umbridge’s office that he was sure she wouldn’t hear them. Then, he stopped walking, and focused his glare on the back of the Death Eater's neck. 

“Here’s how this is going to work, di Angelo. You’re going to tell me everything I want to know about you right now, or I’ll tell the whole school about your little secret.”

Di Angelo stopped in his tracks. Though he didn't turn, Harry knew how scared he was. “What secret?” His voice was calm on the surface, but panicked underneath. Harry smiled; di Angelo knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

“I should’ve known. Is that what the hat saw to make him scream? The things you do for fun?” 

Di Angelo’s olive skin turned from its usual pale to sheet white. He still didn't turn, frozen to the spot. 

“No one will believe you if you told,” he said finally, voice shaking with fear. “You tried to tell everyone Percy was up to something, and they didn’t believe you.”

“I don’t need everyone to believe me. I just need Percy Jackson to.” Harry paused, letting his words sink in. “And you know he will.”

Finally, di Angelo turned. He was on the verge of tears, pale as an Inferi, shaking violently. “Don’t make me do this. Please, Harry, I’m begging you, don’t make me tell you who I am.” 

He sounded so desperate, so unlike the di Angelo Harry knew, that Harry was almost tempted to leave the subject alone.

Almost.

“Why are you here?" Harry demanded. "Who sent you?”

“My father,” di Angelo answered, voice cracking. “To - to find horcruxes.”

_ Horcruxes. _

Harry didn’t ask what those were; he assumed di Angelo didn’t know either. He was a lackey, a servant of a servant; there was no way he knew the plan. 

“And who are you?”

Nico looked Harry straight in the eye, his gaze so broken and depressed Harry knew he couldn’t be lying. He whispered his answer, then scurried away, sprinting towards the Slytherin Common Room. Harry let him go, still shocked by his whispered response. The two words rang in Harry’s mind all the way back to his dorm.

“A monster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that this chapter marks the beginning of that “fun part” I keep mentioning? 
> 
> Also, before you get mad at me about Harry's reaction, this is the explanation I offered my beta readers:  
> What Harry's doing is horrible, and sorts of wrong; I can't excuse it. But, at the same time, I can't blame him either. He left Muggle schooling by eleven, and it's not like wizards have Health Class. He honestly has no idea that self-harm is even a thing; if you'd never heard of this kind of behavior before in your life, then came across it in a person you'd already dubbed evil, you can at least understand why Harry would have this kind of reaction. It's why we need good Health Ed, why knowledge promotes acceptance, and why these kinds of taboos have to be talked about at length. I will not - nor will I ever - excuse what Harry Potter is doing to Nico di Angelo. But, with absolutely nothing to go on, these actions are a symptom of misguided assumptions and morality (something I think we can all agree is Harry's fatal flaw) rather than a symptom of an evil mind.
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:
> 
> STORY: If I see them out, the consequences will be… severe.  
> GIULIA: I can HEAR the voice  
> GIULIA: I can SEE the voice  
> GIULIA: I can TASTE the voice  
> GIULIA: I Hate the voice  
> LISSY: THE VOICE
> 
> **I couldn't find a second one with Sara that didn't have spoilers and/or editing suggestions in it. Sorry :(**
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	21. In Which Kissing Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry uses blackmail to begin to force Nico to answer his questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Self Harm, Suicidal Themes, Violent Imagery/Themes, Blackmail/Bullying  
> Word Count: 4631
> 
>  
> 
> Gee, just look at those trigger warnings? This is going to be a fun chapter, won't it?
> 
> For those of you reading in real time, the other two illustrations are posted on their respective chapters: the "damn to Hades" scene in CH 19, and the "Percy carries Nico" scene in CH 2. "Bianca / Boggart Attack" lost by literally one vote; maybe Viviana and I will do this again in the future, once the fic ends, to hype for the final climax in the final chapters. I don't know; we'll see what happens.
> 
> I'm posting this two days early since it's technically five days late. 22 will be posted a week from this Sunday, so nine days from today. Then, we should be back on the every Sunday before 8 PM EST thing we've been doing so well for a while now.
> 
> Special thanks to Viviana, for being my Italian translator as well as my wonderful artist.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

Nico’s worst fear had come true. His worst enemy knew about his cutting. Camp would find out if he didn’t cooperate with him. Will. Hazel. Percy. Jason. Reyna. Annabeth. Piper. Leo. Frank... they'd know how messed up he was. They'd abandon him. He'd be alone. Again.

But betrayal was the only other option: betrayal of the only people in the universe who cared about him, no matter how many times he messed up. All Nico knew for sure was this: either way, they’d leave, and there was no way he'd survive such heartbreak twice.

But what kind of person was he, to choose betrayal? If Percy were the one with a secret, would he do the same? No, he'd take social ostracization if it meant staying loyal. Why couldn't Nico be strong enough to do that? Why couldn't he act like the hero everyone told him he was?

Still, it didn't matter what Percy would do. Or anyone else, for that matter. The only person had already made his choice, and he'd chosen selfishness. He'd been paralyzed with fear, then spilled his guts. The bare minimum, sure, but Harry would press him further, and Nico had no intention of lying. If Harry found any inconsistencies... it was all over.

He hadn't even made it into the common room before the urge to cut took hold. He dragged the blade in deeper and deeper until the memories hazed and the pain released pain. He cried until he passed out in a pool of his own blood, only to wake up a few hours later and repeat the process upon remembering. Whether it came as a blessing from the gods or the result of blood loss, Nico slept without interruption for once. No Teddy, no dreams, just silent bliss.

When he woke the next morning, Nico longed for that haze of nothingness again. He stared at the new scars on his arms, formed from lack of ambrosia, and wondered what would happen if he just gave in. Slit his wrists instead of his arm. Let the fog take hold once and for all. Never left the bathroom, never betrayed his friends to Harry, never finished the quest...

He'd make sure to be reborn the second he touched ground in Hades. No reason to chance seeing his father, or running into one of his friends, should they search for him in the Underworld. No, he'd run to the Lethe's welcoming arms and forget his miserable life once and for all. He'd be reborn; maybe beside Bianca's soul.

All it would take is a flick of his sword; one little slice, and he'd take control of the only thing in his life that he still could.

Nico's heart pounded at the thought; he glanced at the door to the bathroom. Silence.

_One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten._

Nothing. Silence.

"I'm sorry," Nico whispered to no one in particular. "Teddy, Father, I'm sorry I failed you. Percy, Annabeth, Piper, Jason, Reyna, Frank, Leo... I'm sorry for any pain I'll cause you. Will, Hazel... I'm so sorry I had to love you. I'm sorry."

Nico closed his eyes, and held back the tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks. If there was one time he wouldn't cry, it was the moment of death.

"I know this looks like the coward's way out, but it's not. I'm too weak to keep Harry in the dark; I'm a danger to this quest and to Olympus. It's like Lucretia; she knew she had no way out, and died to stay true to those she loved, to hold onto her honor. I'd rather die a hero than live a coward. And, hey, maybe my death will inspire something as great as the Roman Republic."

Still slumped in the corner of the bathroom, leaning on a rusted sink pipe, Nico drew his sword in closer to his wrists. It was heavier than usual, no doubt a result of all the blood loss. He drew new strength and courage from his sister's face, now vivid in his mind's eye. A memory flashed before him; the last real talk he and she had on the Wednesday before the dance that changed their lives forever. They often did that, stood in the hallways and chatted about this or that in Italian so no one would understand them. That conversation came a week after Nico came out to her. And, while the fallout had been - complicated - he remembered what she'd said, repeated, over again over again, right until Artemis stole her away.

 

> “Ti voglio bene, mio piccolo angelo. Incondizionatamente.                 **[I love you, my little angel. Unconditionally. Just give me**           
>  Dammi solo un po' di tempo per abituarmici; sarà tutto come           **a little time to get used to it; everything will be like it**  
>  prima, lo prometto."                                                                           **used to be, I promise.]**

 

"...come prima, Bianca… te lo prometto..."                               **[...like it used to be, Bianca… I promise you...]**

Ignorance. Oblivion. Bliss. Laughter.

_Laughter? Shit!_

Nico shoved his sword in his bag and stood just as a golden-haired Ravenclaw boy walked the bathroom, mud streaked over his face and neck. He joined Nico at the sink, using the tap to clean his face. "Early morning Quidditch practice," he explained, after rising from his first plunge into the water. "Feel sorry for you Care of Magical Creatures kids. First you got that oaf back as a teacher, now you also gotta to deal with last night's downpour?"

"Uh..." Nico managed, his brain still stuck buffering.

"Know Luna Lovegood, she mentioned you were in that class, with Longbottom and Potter, right? Since you're new, I'll give you some advice. Stay outta Hagrid's way, and don't test any of the beasts he shows you. They ain't tame unless they're dead, trust me."

He toweled off the last of the dirt, then turned back to Nico.

"Anthony Goldstein, by the way. It's Nick, right?"

"Nico," Nico corrected him, still in a haze. "Italian for Nick."

"Right, sorry mate. Here, I'll point the professor out to you. Should be in the Great Hall by now. C'mon."

Nico let himself be led out of the bathroom by Anthony, hyper aware of the sword once again hidden in his bag. He let Anthony tell him more about that Hagrid professor, whoever he was, then ate alone at the far end of the Slytherin table, far from Blaise and Hestia's notice.

_So close... so close..._

**____________________ **HARRY** ____________________**

 

The entire night, Harry almost glowed with pride at his ingenuity. By that time the next day, he’d know everything there was to know about di Angelo and his Death Eater companions. He could deliver the three to Dumbledore with enough proof to show the headmaster his oversight, and keep Hogwarts safe from Lord Voldemort that much longer. And, with a full confession from di Angelo, maybe that would be enough to convince the Ministry that Voldemort was, you know, back.

The appearance of Hagrid the day before topped off the weekend. Though he was beaten up from his giant hunt, and no doubt keeping secrets, Harry felt hopeful for the first time since June. If he could discover Voldemort's plan with Lares and his spy within Hogwarts's walls, he could do anything. At least, he knew he could trust Hagrid; whatever secret he kept couldn't be all that dangerous.

At least, it didn’t _seem_ all that dangerous to _Hagrid._

Harry raced into the Great Hall Monday morning without waiting for Ron or Hermione. He wanted to catch di Angelo the moment he got in and demand more answers. But the son of a Death Eater didn't show at breakfast, and Harry even went out and looked for him after waiting for three-quarters of an hour. Resigned, Harry decided to head to Hagrid's hut early, and catch di Angelo as he came to class. He had to show there, right?

Hagrid looked busy, supporting a large, dead cow over his shoulder. So, Harry just waved at him, smiled at his attempt to wave back, then fixed his gaze back on the castle. Students trickled in from breakfast - various Gryffindors, Malfoy and his cronies, Dean and Seamus, Blaise and Hestia, Neville, Ron and Hermione...

_Di Angelo! Perfect._

"Harry!" Hermione called, her gaze searching for an explanation for his morning's disappearance. But, with di Angelo finally available and so close to cracking, he paid her no attention. Instead, he marched towards di Angelo.

"Non parlo inglese," di Angelo muttered; the almost inaudible remark dripped with the standard di Angelo attitude, but was also somehow distant. Still, it made Harry's blood boil, as di Angelo's snark often did. He finally gained the upper hand for _once_ , which meant he didn't have to deal with the Death Eater's condescending shit.

Harry fixed his eyes over di Angelo's shoulder instead of responding. A bit confused, di Angelo glanced at Harry, then followed his gaze to... an approaching Hestia Carrow. He turned a stark white, the blood draining from his face at the unspoken threat. Yet, he still seemed conflicted. His eyes followed Hestia's approach, shaking more and more visibly with every bouncing, running step.

"You seem a bit pale, di Angelo," Harry commented, not even trying to hide the double meaning in his words. "Why don't you stick by me during class; afterward I can take you to the Hospital Wing."

Di Angelo swallowed hard, then resolved his obvious internal battle. "Sounds good," he breathed, eyes closed in shame, head hung towards the grass.

 _This is cruel,_ a voice whispered in Harry's mind. _Just look at what you're doing to him. You aren't a blackmailer; you can figure out another way._

 _He's a Death Eater's son,_ Harry refuted. _And he's good at keeping secrets. I need to know what he's up to, and I tried everything else. There is no other way; I can't let more people die because I pitied one of Voldemort's followers._

And, just like that, his conscious cleared and his mind made itself up. He'd squeeze di Angelo for all the information he had; who knew how long it would be before the Death Eater and his friends disappeared again, this time never to return? Or, for Voldemort to find out what Harry was doing and call them back?

“We’re workin’ in here today!” Hagrid called happily to the class, jerking his head back at the dark trees of the Forbidden Forest behind him. “Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark...”

“What prefers the dark?” Malfoy asked, panicked. “What did he say prefers the dark - did you hear?”

“Ready?” Hagrid asked, enthralled, looking around at his students. “Right, well, I’ve bin savin’ a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we’d go an’ see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we’re studyin’ today is pretty rare, I reckon I’m probably the on’y person in Britain who’s managed ter train ’em - ”

“And you’re sure they’re trained, are you?” Malfoy asked, fear growing evermore in his voice. “Only it wouldn’t be the first time you’d brought wild stuff to class, would it?”

The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Malfoy had a fair point too. Harry balled his hands into fists; if Malfoy refused to listen to Hagrid when he gave him instruction, of course he'd end up in the Hospital Wing...

“ ’Course they’re trained,” Hagrid scowled, hoisting his dead cow a little higher on his shoulder.

“So what happened to your face, then?” Malfoy demanded.

“Mind yer own business!” Hagrid snapped. “Now if yeh’ve finished askin’ stupid questions, follow me!”

Harry turned and walked into the forest with Hagrid, di Angelo begrudgingly (but willingly) dragging his feet a few paces behind him. "Now, listen, di Angelo," Harry hissed, "I know for a fact Umbridge is inspecting today. If you put one toe out of line, you're done. And control Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, would you?"

Di Angelo looked like it was taking all his willpower not to smack Harry across the face. "I'll try," he choked out, after almost a full minute of silence.

Blaise and Hestia (as well as Ron and Hermione) attempted to get di Angelo’s (or Harry's) attention, but they both ignored the silent and confused pleas of their friends to walk in silence deeper into the Forbidden Forest. After about ten full minutes of walking, Hagrid took the cow off of his back, and thrust it onto the ground with an audible grunt. Many students hid behind the thick trunks of trees, glancing around as though waiting for some beast to attack them, but Harry dragged di Angelo right to the front. Ron and Hermione caught up with them within seconds, giving Harry more confused glances and eyeing di Angelo.

Harry didn't respond.

“Gather roun’, gather roun’,” Hagrid encouraged the students, with little luck. “Now, they’ll be attracted by the smell o’ the meat but I’m goin’ ter give ’em a call anyway, ’cause they’ll like ter know it’s me...” He turned, shook his shaggy hair out of his face, and shouted the oddest bird call Harry had ever heard.

After a few minutes of Hagrid's wailing, an animal appeared. A pair of blank white eyes were glowing in the dark of the Forbidden Forest; as it walked Harry could make out a dragon-like face, then the skeleton of a black horse, and strong, feathered wings.

_The winged horses! If Hagrid knows what they are, maybe I'm not going mad after all._

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of recognition from di Angelo. He must've seen these winged horses too, perhaps for the first time this September, perhaps not. They couldn't be Horcruxes, could they?

_No, Hagrid wouldn't bring any kind of dark magic into class. These must be something else._

Most of the class couldn’t see them, though, beyond di Angelo, Harry saw surprised expressions from Neville, and some Slytherin boy.

“Oh, an’ here comes another one!” Hagrid said proudly, as another winged horse appeared out of the dark to join its friend at the cow meat. “Now... put yer hands up, who can see ’em?” Harry, di Angelo and the others raised their hands. “Yeah... yeah, I knew you’d be able ter, Harry. An’ you too, Neville, eh? An’ - ”

“Excuse me,” Malfoy sneered. “But what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?”

Hagrid pointed to the cow on the ground, where the winged horses were eating. A few people gasped; Parvati squealed in terror. Harry imagined what they must’ve seen, strips of cow flesh disappearing into thin air. “What’s doing it?” Parvati demanded, scared out of her wits. “What’s eating it?”

“Thestrals,” Hagrid announced. At last, Harry had a name. Thestrals. “Hogwarts has got a whole herd of ’em in here. Now, who knows - ?”

“But they’re really, really unlucky!” Parvati interrupted, face growing alarmed. “They’re supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. Professor Trelawney told me once - ”

“No, no, no,” Hagrid cut her off, chuckling, “Tha’s jus’ superstition, that is, they aren’ unlucky, they’re dead clever an’ useful! ’Course, this lot don’ get a lot o’ work, it’s mainly jus’ pullin’ the school carriages unless Dumbledore’s takin’ a long journey an’ don’ want ter Apparate - an’ here’s another couple, look - ”

Two more thestrals emerged from the trees; one of them passed inches from Parvati. “I think I felt something, I think it’s near me!” she squealed.

“It is,” Harry heard di Angelo mutter to himself. “Chill.”

“Don’ worry, it won’ hurt yeh,” Hagrid reassured her. “Righ’, now, who can tell me why some o’ you can see them an’ some can’t?” Hermione's hand shot into the air, like usual. “Go on then.”

“The only people who can see thestrals,” she answered, “Are people who have seen death.”

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed a hand on his forehead, doing his best to repress the memories of last June flooding into his brain. Only di Angelo was close enough to notice, and, though he raised an eyebrow, he said nothing.

_Of course you can see them. Who did Daddy ask you to kill?_

“Tha’s exactly right.” Hagrid beamed at her. “Ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals - ”

“Hem, hem.” Harry jumped at the noise; he realized with a jolt that Umbridge was standing a few feet away from him and di Angelo, her green cloak tied tight and clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who never heard her fake cough before, stared bewildered at the nearest thestral,  assuming it had made the sound. “Hem, hem,” Umbridge repeated, each noise a little more emphasized.

“Oh hello!” Hagrid greeted her, finally noticing she'd been standing there.

“You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?” she asked, as though talking to an infant. “Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?”

“Oh yeah,” Hagrid confirmed. “Glad yeh found the place all righ’! Well, as you can see - or, I dunno - can you? We’re doin’ thestrals today - ”

“I’m sorry?” Umbridge asked loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. “What did you say?”

Hagrid looked a little confused. “Er - thestrals!” he repeated, his words also raising in volume. “Big- er- winged horses, yeh know!”

He flapped his arms, which made Umbridge raise her eyebrows, then make a note on her clipboard and mutter, “ ‘has... to... resort... to... crude... sign... language...’ ”

“Well... anyway...” Hagrid continued, turning back to the class with a bit of a confused expression. “Erm... what was I sayin’?”

“‘Appears... to... have... poor... short... term... memory...’” Umbridge muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear her. Malfoy looked so happy he was about to burst, but Harry's vision tinted red.

"She's trying to paint him as some kind of oaf!" Harry hissed through gritted teeth.

"No shit," di Angelo shot back.

"Shut it, you. Now," Harry snapped, even more furious. Di Angelo, smartly, refrained from making another sarcastic comment.

The rest of the class went on like that, Umbridge painting Hagrid to look like a bloodthirsty monster to Malfoy’s delight and Harry’s anger. Di Angelo said nothing the entire class; he kept his head down, only to speak up in defense of Hagrid against Malfoy's snide remarks, as Harry had instructed him to. By the time they left the Forbidden Forest, Harry felt as though smoke was bursting from his ears.

“That foul woman!" Harry exclaimed to no one in particular. "If she throws out Hagrid - ”

“Don’t look at me," di Angelo mumbled. "I didn’t do anything.”

"Hogwarts. Now. There's an empty classroom by - "

"The Great Hall, I know," di Angelo finished for him. "Don't you have class?"

"Don't worry about me," Harry said through gritted teeth. He was _not_ in the mood for more snark. "And, if you'd like to keep stalling, Zabini and Carrow are - "

"This way," di Angelo interrupted, outright running towards the castle to put distance between himself and his friends. With a smile, Harry followed.

"What did you mean, when you said you were a monster?" Harry demanded the moment they were alone.

Di Angelo stared at the floor again. "Nothing, I just - "

"Not good enough."

Di Angelo gave an anxious sigh. "I'm not normal, but you already... know... that. I'm dangerous; I'm my own agent, I always have been. Sometimes... sometimes that makes me do stuff no hero would do."

"Like what?"

"Like kill my own sister."

_You already knew he was a psychopath, Harry. Just get on with it._

"Lares. They anything close to Inferi?"

Shock and confusion flashed on di Angelo's countenance before he responded. "No... they're much worse than di - I mean, Inferi."

"They're their own agents?" Harry pressed, remembering what Hermione had found weeks ago in the library.

"Yeah." Di Angelo let out another shaky sigh. "Even I - even my father - has almost no control over them. But, when they fight for us, they think like humans instead of minions, like the Inferi. Kind of like your ghosts here."

"Is that why you're at Hogwarts, then? To study the ghosts, and use them to improve your control over the Lares?"

"What?" Di Angelo asked, taken aback. "No - we just stumbled on them - "

"So, it's just the Horcruxes, then," Harry concluded. "What are they? What does your father want with them?"

Di Angelo started hyperventilating, pulling at his hair and rocking back and forth. He looked so pitiful, Harry almost let him off the hook.

Almost.

"Who's your father?" Harry pressed. Di Angelo would crack soon, he knew it. "Is he a Death Eater?"

"Death - Death serves my father," di Angelo managed, voice cracking with each breath. "Not the other way around."

"What does that even mean?!" Harry yelled, getting frustrated. "Stop stalling, you - "

The tap-tap-tap of footsteps cut Harry off. Di Angelo sprinted for the shadows, almost melting into them to avoid sight. Harry, who'd left his Invisibility Cloak in his trunk like an idiot, had no time for such a plan.

"Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, appearing outside the doorway. "What are you doing out of Herbology?"

"I.. uh..." Harry stammered, avoiding McGonagall's stern look.

"I do not appreciate my students cutting, Mr. Potter. I will see you in my office tonight for detention, where you will write an apology to Professor Sprout."

"But - "

"If you do not continue back to the greenhouses, that day becomes a week. Now, go."

Harry threw a glance towards the shadows, in case di Angelo could still see him. A glance that read, 'we're not done here.' Then, McGonagall ushered him back to Herbology, and away from his chance to break the stupid, lucky, cunning Death Eater’s son.

Harry didn’t see di Angelo the rest of the day - or, more likely, di Angelo avoided him for the duration of the day. His detention came and went, and, before he knew it, the sun had set.

It was the final DA practice before Christmas holiday.

They reviewed the Impediment Curse and Stunning; by the time the lesson ended Harry was in a slightly better mood. Still, thoughts of his interrogation ran through his mind. How did death serve Mr. di Angelo? Why had di Angelo killed his own sister? What were Horcruxes? Why was di Angelo so resistant whenever he got close to revealing his father's identity?

Ron and Hermione left before he did; he stayed back because Cho was still there and he wanted to talk to her alone. They hadn’t spoken much since that day in the Owlery, not even when Hermione noticed her staring at him in the Hog’s Head. He busied himself straightening cushions until only he, she, and Marietta Edgecomb stood in the DA headquarters.

Then, Harry caught four words that made his heart jump all the way into his throat. “No, you go on.”

Marietta left, and Harry continued to straighten the cushions. He was too nervous to turn around, so he instead waited for Cho to speak. When she didn't, he forced himself to turn and -

She was crying.

“Wha... at's up?” he asked, taken off-guard.

Cho shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m - sorry,” she apologized. “I suppose... it’s just... learning all this stuff... It just makes me... wonder whether... if he’d known it all… he’d still be alive…”

At those set of words, Harry’s heart sank back into his chest, then settled in his stomach. He should’ve known she’d want to talk about Cedric. “He did know this stuff,” Harry reassured her, trying not to sound too disappointed. “He was really good at it, or he could never have got to the middle of that maze. But if Voldemort really wants to kill you, you don’t stand a chance.”

Cho hiccupped at the sound of Voldemort’s name, but stared at Harry without flinching. “You survived when you were just a baby,” she half-whispered.

“Yeah, well,” Harry grumbled, moving toward the door, “I dunno why, nor does anyone else, so it’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Oh don’t go!” Cho cried, tearful again. “I’m really sorry to get all upset like this... I didn’t mean to...” her voice trailed off. She hiccuped again; Harry couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was, even with red and puffy eyes. He felt miserable; he would’ve been floating on air with just a Merry Christmas… “I know it must be horrible for you,” she continued, wiping her eyes on her sleeve again, “Me mentioning Cedric, when you saw him die... I suppose you just want to forget about it...”

Harry said nothing. She was right, of course, but it would’ve seemed heartless to respond with, ‘yeah, never talk to me about your boyfriend’s death ever again.’

“You’re a r-really good teacher, you know,” Cho complimented him with a small smile. “I’ve never been able to Stun anything before.”

Harry replied with an awkward, "Thanks."

They stared at each other for a long few seconds. Harry wanted to run from the room, but his feet refused him such a luxury. “Mistletoe,” Cho noted, pointing at the ceiling over his head.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his mouth dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.”

Cho furrowed her eyebrows. “What are nargles?”

“No idea.” Harry's brain hummed on overdrive, hyper aware of how close she now stood. His thoughts felt Stunned. “You’d have to ask Loony. Luna, I mean.”

Cho made an odd noise in her throat, caught between a laugh and sob. She stood inches from him, now. He could have counted the freckles on her nose. “I really like you, Harry.”

Then, she kissed him. He couldn’t believe it, couldn't comprehend what was happening, couldn't remember to breathe. Here she was, the beautiful, Quidditch-savvy Ravenclaw girl who’d rejected him last year, kissing him in the Room of Requirement. All thoughts of di Angelo raced from his mind, leaving only thoughts of Cho. He could see tears clinging to her eyelashes, could taste the warm wetness of the kiss, could feel the way her lips moved on his…

Harry pulled away first, mind blank, as though her kiss cast some spell over him. Cho gave a shy smile, then grabbed the bag she’d dropped on the floor. “See you, Harry,” she said, then ran from the room, blushing.

It took Harry more than a few minutes to gather his thoughts; then he set off for the Gryffindor common room, memories of his first kiss running through his head. He was so distracted that his feet carried him to the dungeons, rather than the Gryffindor Common Room. When he finally realized where he was - a couple of yards from the Slytherin common room - he cursed at himself, then turned to retrace his steps.

The sound of ardent breaths stopped him from leaving.

Harry didn't know what he expected; maybe di Angelo still hyperventilating over his pile of dark secrets, maybe Zabini or Carrow reacting to finding out di Angelo's secret, maybe Crabbe or Goyle attempting to read a book. The one person he did not expect? Draco Malfoy.

But, there he was, back against the wall, curled up in fetal position, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, struggling to breathe properly. "Malfoy?" Harry asked, more confused than concerned. "What the hell...?"

"Di Angelo talks in his sleep," Malfoy whispered, face white as Nearly Headless Nick's. "He - he - " Another shaky breath overtook him.

"He what?" Harry demanded, now kneeling next to Malfoy, face inches from his. "What did he say?"

Malfoy swallowed hard. "It's not - it's not possible - he can't be - "

"What?! Malfoy, _what did he say_?!"

"His - his father - "

"Name? You have a name? Who is his father? What did he say?"

Malfoy looked up at Harry for the first time, with utter and complete terror in his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

“Try me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T KILL ME  
> DON'T KILL ME  
> I BEG OF YOU DON'T KILL ME
> 
> ...
> 
> (because you'll want to save killing me for later down the road)
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:
> 
> STORY: "Anthony Goldstein, by the way. It's Nick, right?"
> 
> LISSY: This entire scene is literally an excuse to get that one Jewish wizard in my story somehow. I LIKE SELF-REPRESENTATION OK?!
> 
> SARA: YES GOOD
> 
> SARA: also no suicide so EVEN BETTER
> 
> LISSY: I agree!!!!!
> 
> GIULIA: HOORAY FOR JEWISH WIZARDS
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia  
> Other: [Viviana di Chiara - Italian Translator](https://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	22. DAMMIT HARRY...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico has another nightmare; Harry... does stupid things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Violent imagery (non-graphic), Self-Harm (mentioned)  
> Word Count: 2918
> 
>  
> 
> I'm a little late, 'cause my beautiful right-hand Peyton Sarai had closing night of her awesome show! Which was awesome! So, I had to go and see it ('cause I was away opening night, and haven't seen it yet) and... yeah. It was really, really good. 
> 
> But, I'm not actually late with this post, because I say by 8 PM, and right now it's only like 6:20 PM. You're lucky I feel nice today; I have a ton of Freedom Fighter work due, and I was going to not post this until after I finished it. Then, I realized that Freedom Fighter's going to take me until at least 9 or 10 tonight, and that's too mean even for me.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

 

Teddy no longer spoke to Nico. He'd expected it; why should Teddy help a so-called hero who’d betrayed his friends at the drop of a hat? Still, the open rejection hurt. It was yet another reminder of how much the son of Hades failed anyone and everyone who ever helped him.

What’s more, Nico no longer could avoid the nightmares. Before, he could train with Teddy from dusk until dawn, tiring himself out so that when he finally did sleep, the dreams - at least most of the time - were harmless.

He should’ve known he’d pay for such betrayal. Even Morpheus knew how to punish a self-serving hero: give him his worst nightmare yet.

Nico’s dream began in familiar surroundings, but, beyond that, he still couldn’t pinpoint where it was; the night was too dark to allow much sight. Still, there was some… aura about the place. Like how Nico felt when he approached a Horcrux, but worse, so much worse. Two figures sat near him; one boy around Percy’s age, one about his own.

“Where are we?” the younger asked his older companion. Under normal circumstances, Nico would know the voice, but the aura interfered with his ability to think.

The older boy shook his head and stood up, then pulled the younger one to his feet. “Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?” the older boy asked.

_What’s a portkey?_

“Nope. Is this supposed to be part of the task?”

“I dunno. Wands out, d’you reckon?”

“Yeah.”

_So, they’re followers of Hecate._

They pulled out their wands, then crept forward into the dark. The younger boy’s head whisked to his left. “Someone’s coming.”

Nico trained his eyes in that direction, forcing his brain to work properly, despite the aura. Yes, there was a figure approaching, walking between stones - gravestones. He still couldn’t make out any face in the dark, but he managed to take in some details. The approaching person was short, with a hooded cloak pulled over his face, carrying… was that a baby?

A high-pitched cold voice filled the air. Riddle. “Kill the spare,” he said.

A swishing noise, a scream of “Avada Kedavra!” from the hooded man, and a flash of green light illuminated the night. It hit the older boy square in the chest and he crumpled. There he lay, on cold, hard ground, spread-eagled, mouth half-open in a mixture of surprise and fear.

Dead.

“No!” Nico screamed. He wanted to draw his sword and run to these mortals’ aid, but he couldn’t move. Just like the old mortal from his last dream. Just like the Potters. They all fell to Avada Kedavra. They all fell to Riddle.

The man in the cloak didn’t waste a second. He put down his bundle, lit his wand, and dragged the younger boy towards a marble headstone. Then, he summoned a magical rope and let it coil around the boy, tying him completely, from neck to ankles. He checked the cord, made sure his prisoner couldn't move, gagged him with some black cloth from his pocket, then turned away.

_Wormtail._

The name came to Nico as he stared at the hooded figure. Yes, that voice sounded all too familiar; it was the same servant as in his dream before.

_But who’s the boy?_

Nico worked up the courage to inspect the bundle of robes; it had to be the fetal Riddle. The image was still burned into Nico’s mind, the unnaturalness of his body, the way its presence washed over Nico, he hated the thing, he hated it, he _hated_ it! But there it was, and there was no mistaking it as the source of the high-pitched voice, giving the order to kill that young follower of Hecate.

_How heartless can someone be to take the life of a teenager; a student whose biggest crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time?_

Breathing heavily, Wormtail dragged an enormous cauldron through the dirt, a hundred times larger than anything Nico had ever used in potions. Gallons of water - or what sounded and looked like water, anyway - sloshed around in the cauldron. It could serve as a bathtub for a… for a full-grown man.

_No. Hades, no. Don’t let this be -_

The fetal Riddle stirred, trying to free itself from its bundle of cloaks. Nico gritted his teeth and put his hands up to his ears, wanting to block out the sound, but he couldn’t get rid of it. He wished he had his iPod with him; any song in his library would’ve been enough to block out those terrible, piercing noises.

The popping and crackling of flames filled the air. Wormtail had created a fire underneath the cauldron. The liquid bubbled, faster than it should have, then shot sparks as though it were made of sparklers. Clouds of steam wafted from the top of the cauldron and filled the air.

Riddle stirred evermore. “Hurry!” he commanded.

Now, the liquid in the cauldron sparkled like diamonds. “It is ready, master,” Wormtail informed him.

“Now…” Riddle whispered. That aura - that unnatural, angering pit in the bottom of Nico’s stomach - exploded. It overcame him, reduced him to an animalistic version of his former self, kept all thoughts from entering his mind, forced him to bear witness to an event he craved to shut out. Something was about to happen that went against Nico’s very being, very soul, very point of existence. Something that went against everything Hades and his children stood for.

Cheating death.

Wormtail took the robes off the fetal Riddle, allowing Nico his second full-on view of the thing. It was hairless, scaly, and a dark reddish black. Its arms were thin and feeble, its face flat and snakelike, its eyes glowing and gleaming red. Nico’s eyes burned at the sight of the ungodly, unnatural thing, but his body stood, frozen in place; he couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though the pain of looking at it made his body shake and throat burn. Through red-tinted vision, Nico saw Wormtail carry it to the cauldron, then dump it into the diamond water with a soft thud.

For the first time in a long time - maybe even his entire life - Nico prayed - no, begged - his father for some sort of comfort. Tears streamed down his face in pure agony, and the shaking made it hard for him to stand. He wanted to fall, but he couldn’t move. So, he cried out to Hades louder.

_Please, Father, let him drown! Let him drown, let him die, please! Stop this!_

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!”

_No, no, please, Father, make it stop!_

“Flesh- of your servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master!”

_Father! You can’t let -_

“B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe!”

_Please! Kill him!_

The liquid in the cauldron morphed into a blinding white, shining with the power of Apollo and Artemis combined. A thousand Celestial Bronze arrows pierced Nico’s body. He screamed from the torturous pain, so blinding he couldn’t even wish death upon his enemy, much less upon himself. The shaking turned into convulsions, and, at last, his legs gave way and he fell, fell into fetal position on the ground, his arms clutching his stomach, his eyes fixed on the cauldron at a sideways view with black spots dancing through the red.

Without thinking, wholly unable to think, Nico somehow managed to scream out one last time. “I’ll kill you! My father is the Lord of the Dead! I’ll kill you!” His voice sounded raw, rabid, yet his words were empty.

The dark outline of a man, tall and so thin he could be a skeleton, rose from the cauldron. “Robe me.”

Nico turned his head from Riddle, not wanting to see the man alive again, so unnatural and half-human already. Upon doing so, he realized that he could, in fact, move his body again. The convulsions had stopped, the torture reduced to that Horcrux-like aura. Nico had never felt so happy to feel sheer anger.

He laid on the ground for whole minutes, maybe hours, trying to catch his breath and dull the pain. He had no sword with him, he couldn’t cut, so he dealt with it all in the usual - but much less efficient - way. After his ADHD took over again, and he couldn’t lie still anymore, he slowly pushed himself off the ground. A minute later, he was standing again, on two weak yet stable legs.

Nico trained his eyes on the young, tied up boy, forcing the red and black spots to clear from his gaze. He made out curly hair, glasses, and a small scar on his forehead. Finally, Nico realized why that boy’s voice was so familiar. “Harry Potter?” Nico whispered.

Harry paid him no attention. His terrified eyes remained fixed on Riddle, talking to a group of hooded men, encircling him, clutching to his every word. Now that his eyes were working properly, Nico focused on his ears, and caught the end of Riddle’s speech.

“Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger.” A snake glided through the grass, wrapping around Riddle’s feet. “Just a little longer, Nagini,” he promised it in a ghostly whisper, then returned to his followers. “Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.”  

By the look of it, Harry felt no stronger than Nico on his own two feet; he couldn’t even support his own weight. Despite his hatred of that particular follower of Hecate, Nico felt scared for him. He was about to die, murdered by Tom Riddle, just like the older boy he’d come to the graveyard with, just like the old muggle, just like his parents. No wonder Harry reacted the way he did when Hagrid mentioned the death he’d seen; he was suppressing memories of Riddle’s… resurrection.

“You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?” Riddle asked. Harry said nothing. “We bow to each other, Harry,” Riddle continued in the silence. He bent half an inch, then crooned, “Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners... Bow to death, Harry...” The others, watching them, laughed. “I said, bow.” Riddle raised his wand, and Harry bent by force. “Very good,” Riddle complimented him, a chill in every word, every breath. “And now you face me, like a man... straight-backed and proud, the way your father died… and now - we duel.”

Riddle raised his wand, and before Nico had time to take another breath, Harry fell to the ground, body twisting at unnatural angles as he screamed in pain.  Harry’s moans stopped after a long ten seconds, and he scrambled to his feet. “A little break,” Riddle said, “a little pause... That hurt, didn’t it, Harry? You don’t want me to do that again, do you?” Silence. “I asked you whether you want me to do that again. Answer me! Imperio!”

Harry fought against an invisible force, then shouted, “I WON’T!”

“You won’t?” Riddle asked, voice almost inaudible. “You won’t say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die... Perhaps another little dose of pain?” Harry dodged with reflexes that, though a little slow to Nico, were good enough to catch Riddle off-guard. He dove behind the marble headstone, out of sight, no doubt catching his breath and one final moment of peace. “We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,” Riddle chided. “You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry... come out and play, then... it will be quick... it might even be painless... I would not know... I have never died...”

Riddle approached the headstone, but Harry jumped out, wand at the ready, and exclaimed, “Expelliarmus!”

“Avada Kedavra!” Riddle cried; green light met the red from Harry’s wand. A narrow beam connected the wands together, a deep, golden ray of light. Both of them, Riddle and Harry, were lifted off the ground as Riddle’s servants shouted to him, requesting orders from their master. “Do nothing!” Riddle shrieked. “Do nothing unless I command you!”

They both hovered for what seemed like years, until Harry shouted, “NOW!”, and pulled his wand away. The golden ray of light broke; Harry sprinted towards where he’d come. Curses flew after him, but he dodged them.

“Stun him!” Riddle screamed. “Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!”

“Accio!” Harry yelled, clearly begging for the spell to quicken in his mind. A large, golden trophy flew into the air; Harry caught it by the handle. He disappeared with the older boy’s body beside him, somehow recovered in the insanity.

Riddle let out a scream of fury, his face full of rage and insanity.

Nico woke up in a cold sweat, just to see Malfoy scrambling out of the dorm room. Nico didn’t pay much attention; all he could think about was cutting and forgetting that horrible dream. Memory of the morning came back to him, yes, dreamless sleep sounded too tempting. Even as he retrieved his sword and made his way to the privacy of the bathroom, Nico resolved to remember two crucial details from his dream:

  1. Riddle not only cheated death, but cheated death with the senseless murder of a mortal.
  2. There were only four people in the world that had ever witnessed a defiance of Hades and lived… and Harry Potter was the only one who might be on the gods’ side.



____________________ **RON** ____________________

 

Harry stumbled into the Gryffindor common room at half-past midnight, white as a ghost. “Are you all right, Harry?” Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill she’d been using to write an essay.

In response, Harry only gave a half-hearted, distracted shrug.

“What’s up?” Ron asked, propping himself up on his elbow to get a clearer view of Harry. “What’s happened?”

Harry said nothing, which confused Ron even more.

_Did something happen? What could happen between DA practice and -_

“Is it Cho?” Hermione prompted. “Did she corner you after the meeting?”

“Well - er - yes, but - ”

“Did you kiss?”

Silence.

_Oh._

“Well…” Harry’s voice trailed off; in his eyes, Ron saw he was debating something. “Well, yes, but, that doesn't matter.”

Ron snorted. “Might’ve mattered to Cho.”

“Guys!” Harry exclaimed. “I ran into Malfoy on my way back, outside his common room, he told me something di Angelo said in his sleep a few minutes ago. It’s...” Harry searched for the right word, his eyes glazing over again in shock… or maybe fear. “...something,” he decided.

Hermione glanced up from her parchment for the first time, eyes glowing with concern. “Did he go to any teacher? Did he tell Dumbledore?”

“No,” Harry answered. “Only me. You know Dumbledore has a blind spot for the Americans, I dunno why, but… anyway, I got di Angelo to talk today, and - ”

“You did?” Ron interjected, cutting him off. “Is that why you were all buddy-buddy with him this morning?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’ve got something on him, I can’t say, or he might not answer any more of my questions. First, I asked him who he was, and he called himself a monster. It didn’t make any sense, but…” Again, Harry let his sentence hang loose. He looked terrified to continue. “Then, I asked him if his father was a Death Eater, and he said death served his father.”

“But, Harry, that doesn’t make sense either,” Hermione pointed out. Ron nodded in agreement.

“I thought so too, until Malfoy told me what he heard. Di Angelo… di Angelo said…” Harry took another deep breath. “Malfoy heard di Angelo say, ‘I’ll kill you. My father is the Lord of the Dead; I ’ll kill you… Harry Potter.’”

Hermione turned as white as Harry. Ron, stunned, just said, “He - he what?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, wiping his face with his hands. “Please, somebody tell me I’m wrong, but that di Angelo’s not - ”

“Don’t say it, Harry.” Hermione begged, cutting him off. “Please.”

“Don’t say what?” Ron asked.

Hermione started crying silent tears of terror as she opened her mouth again, shaking horribly. “‘Di Angelo’ is Italian for angel. As in, an immortal being who reaps souls but never dies itself.”

“All right…” Ron replied. He didn’t understand what that had to do with anything, unless… “You’re saying di Angelo’s father is in You-Know-Who's inner circle? That he picked his last name to impress him or something?”

“No,” Harry corrected, his almost inaudible whisper shook with fear. “I’m saying he made up a last name, because he couldn’t use his real one. Because... he’s the son of the Lord of the Dead himself.”

“No…” Ron whispered, shaking his head, finally catching on. “Harry, that’s mad - that’s impossible.”

“I know, Ron, I know. But… it all makes so much sense. The hat’s scream, the obsession with dead things, no family history, the disappearance… Nico di Angelo came to Hogwarts to deliver me to his father.” Harry stopped short, not wanting to voice the unspeakable, certain, final piece to the puzzle. “His father… Lord Voldemort.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought Harry would finally know the truth. Lol.
> 
> (And yes, I've been building this up since day one.)
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: “His father… Lord Voldemort.”  
> SARA: DOING THE DO WITH YOU KNOW WHO  
> LISSY: OH M Y G O D  
> GIULIA: But like Voldy was hot when he was young...  
> Imagine the girl who did the do with you know who.  
> LISSY: ...and I thought I had morning-after regrets...
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	23. Everyone Loves Percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico comes up with a plan to deal with Harry's blackmail; Percy, Annabeth, and Nico return to Camp Half-Blood for Christmas break/holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 3389
> 
>  
> 
> Figured I owed you guys a happy chapter. So... here you go. Cherish it; it's the last one for a while.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

****

“You going to see Will?”

Blaise and Nico were alone in their dorm room, packing for the coming holiday. Nico should've been jumping for joy - a full two weeks without Harry Potter and his questions - but his heart hadn't gotten the memo. Christmas had arrived; his self-given deadline to break-up with Will had come, and he was still so in love. Whenever he thought about ending things, the images in his brain punched him in the gut. But, now more than ever, Nico couldn't give himself another fatal flaw. Not now that Harry Potter could use Will too.

“Um... Earth to Nico?" Blaise stared at him, perplexed; Nico had been standing silent by his bed, his blank stare fixed on his suitcase. "You seem distracted, is everything all right?”

“What? Yeah, of course. I’m just thinking. It’s been awhile since I went home.” Nico shrugged off Blaise's concerned gaze and continued to fold clothes into his suitcase.

“I know, but aren't you excited? You’ll be able to talk to Will, see your dad, all your American friends… Jason? Leo? Piper? The ones you told me about.” Blaise nudged Nico with his shoulder. “It’s Christmas, Nico! Lighten up!”

Nico rolled his eyes as he scoffed. “Not my style, Zabini. You should get going; isn't the train leaving in, like, an hour?”

"Shit! You're right." Blaise threw the rest of his things together, then bolted out the door. "Happy Christmas, Nico," he called; his voice carrying from down the hallway.

"Tell Hestia bye for me!" Nico called back. He shook his head, then tried to focus on packing. It was slow work, and Nico wasn't in the mood to be alone with his thoughts. Not for the first time, he wished for Teddy's voice. He missed the stupid follower of Hecate; there was something about having a friend who knew all of you, who never left your side, who wouldn't judge what he saw.

"I'm glad you think of me as your friend."

Nico turned and saw Teddy - his entire body, like during dreams - standing before him. "H- how… I… how did...?" His mind raced in shock and confusion; too off-put to form a coherent sentence.

"You won't let me come to you in your dreams anymore; I wanted to say goodbye in person," Teddy answered.

"But... but you weren't appearing to me anymore! I didn't - "

"I can't talk to you when you pass out, Nico. And I won't train you when you've got more blood on the floor than in your veins." Teddy moved towards Nico's bed and sat beside where he stood. He looked up at the son of Hades, his eleven-year-old eyes shining with fear. "I thought you said you would save my parents for me. Why are you talking to Harry Potter? Why are you betraying us? Why are you helping Lord Voldemort?"

Nico sat beside him, put his head in his hands, and scrubbed at his face. He sighed, then looked back at the boy beside him. "I'm weak, that's why. Without you, I'm weak. But I haven't told him anything of value yet. Maybe together... maybe we can still salvage the situation."

"How?" Teddy sounded more hopeless than anything else. It gave Nico the strength to consider what he couldn't before; the one plan that might get him out of the mess he'd made.

"I'm weak," Nico repeated. "I'm weak and selfish, but I’m not stupid. The quest is only over when Riddle finds out what we're doing, when he tries to stop us and things get bloody. That can't happen without the Olympian Gods' exposure, which won't happen unless I talk to Harry. If I don't talk, nothing happens. We know I can't keep myself from talking... but maybe I can prevent myself from getting the chance."

Nico turned back to Teddy and met his eye once more. "One horcrux is already gone, we captured two others, and we know where the fourth is. That's over half. We have a way to destroy them, and a place to keep them. I'm not much help anymore; Percy and Annabeth have been on way more quests than me, and have gotten through worse without my help. They can finish this for me, they can save your parents for us. The best thing - the only thing - I can do now to help is... disappear."

Nico paused, trying to judge Teddy's reaction, but he had one of the best poker faces Nico had ever seen. They sat together in silence for a full minute, until he asked, "What would you do?"

"Go off the grid," Nico responded with ease. "I've done it before; I can do it again: I’ll come back when the quest is over, or when Harry's not up my ass anymore. If Harry Potter can't find me, he can't ask any questions, which means I can't answer them."

"Why haven't you done this already, then?" Teddy challenged, voice growing more hostile. "It's pretty clear that you planned this all out ages ago. Why did you wait? Why did you put the quest in danger?"

"You're forgetting about my father," Nico told him, his own voice short. "Teddy, he sent me on this quest; he's not going to just let me stop in the middle."

"But if you told him about the blackmail - "

"He'd tell me to suck it up and deal with it, like my sister would if she were on this quest. No, the only way this is going to work is if I'm invisible from everyone - even the gods themselves. I haven't left yet because, until you showed up, I had no way of doing that."

"What can I do?" Teddy's tone shifted from hostile to hopeless. "I'm not even a demigod - I'm just a wizard. The only humans with less magic than me are actual muggles -  mortals."

"Sure," Nico agreed. "But there's a reason Hecate even has followers - her magic gives her the power to do what she wants. That's the real reason why my father hates her so much; the mere fact that she can control her own lands is enough to challenge his identity as a major god. She's tried to assert herself as an Olympian before, but failed because the Olympians like her even less than Hades. She's always been more Titan than goddess, and they all know it."

"Fine," Teddy said. "But I'm not my matron."

"You're blessed by her," Nico reminded him. "You have her magic in your blood, one and the same. Sure, it's not as powerful as Hecate's, but it's enough to hide me from Olympus, both camps, and the Underworld. If we can find the right spell, that is."

Teddy contemplated the plan, then nodded. "I have an idea. When would we do it? Tonight?"

Nico shook his head. "I need to say goodbye to my friends, to Will. I won't be suspicious about it, but I can't let them think less of me when I leave. They have to know this isn't their fault." Nico looked down, pausing for a moment. "We'll do it midnight, on Monday, the 19th. It'll be least suspicious that way."

"Why wait two days? Why not just do it tonight? What's so special about the 19th?"

"It's..." Nico swallowed hard. "...the anniversary of my sister's death. Six years. It wouldn't be the first time I vanished on December 19th, but this time, I just won't come back. No one would think anything was wrong until the solstice since camp has a meeting then every year, like the gods do on Olympus. When I don't show up like usual, they'll realize. By then, there won't be a trail left. As long as you can do some sort of spell - "

"Fidelus Charm. I can be your Secret Keeper."

"I have no idea what that means, but okay."

Teddy laughed. "The Fidelus Charm is one of the hardest spells a wizard can perform. Basically, you put a secret into someone else, called the 'Secret Keeper'. I can be your Secret Keeper. The charm makes it so I can't tell a living soul without willing consent, so your father couldn't force it out of me, through torture or otherwise. And, as long as I tell no one, you're invisible."

Nico almost jumped for joy at such a plan. "You think you can pull this off? If it's so difficult - "

"I can at least try. We have the whole weekend for me to practice, right?"

Nico nodded. "In the meantime, I'll have to find a way to fight Riddle once and for all. He's such a powerful follower of Hecate, he's more a son of the goddess than just a blessed mortal. My sword won't kill him, and I'd like more tricks up my sleeve than just 'damn to Hades'."

"That's smart," Teddy agreed. "Let me practice the spell, make sure I can do it. We can discuss alternate ways to fight and kill Lord Voldemort once you're safe from the gods' eyes."

Teddy stood, and nodded his head one last time. When Nico blinked, the young follower of Hecate was gone.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

****

Around four in the afternoon, Annabeth met Percy in the empty classroom by the Great Hall. It was out of the way; the perfect place for Nico to shadow-travel them home for the holidays.

"It'll be fun, us back at camp for two weeks." Percy gave Annabeth that goofy smile of his, the one she found so annoyingly adorable. "Might be able to find some alone time  _ without _ Peeves throwing things every time I so much as hold your hand."

Annabeth laughed. "Yeah, I guess it'll be a nice change. Are you going home for Christmas?"

"You know Mom would kill me if I didn't. Besides, she wants to see you." Percy paused, then chuckled. "She invited Nico over for Christmas dinner too, like usual, and Jason and Leo. Thalia mentioned to Jason that the Hunters might be in the area around Christmas, so she might show up at the apartment too. Plus, Hazel misses Nico like crazy, so she and Frank - and possibly Reyna - might come over. If Piper decides not to see her dad... well, we're going to need a bigger apartment."

Annabeth laughed too. "And if Calypso comes back from Costa Rica?"

"Oh gods, please don't tempt fate."

Annabeth laughed. "When do Sally and Paul want us in New York?"

"Christmas Eve, last time we spoke. We don't have enough room for everyone to sleep over for more than a night. I might head up there after the solstice meeting, though. I want some time alone with them before everyone else comes."

Nico entered the classroom, out of his robes, and in his standard black jeans and aviator's jacket. “Remember to catch me when I pass out, Jackson.”

“And deal with Will’s wrath," Percy noted with another laugh. "Got it.”

Nico took Annabeth's and Percy's hands, but hesitated for a half-second, looking around at the empty room like it held some importance. Annabeth saw - just for a second - Nico's eyes cloud over. In them, a dark, Riddle-like gleam formed - one that she'd noticed more and more in the past weeks. The next second, it was gone, and she pushed the image away.

_ He's not Riddle. He never was, and never will be. _

After repeating those words to herself almost daily for over a month now, they were beginning to lose their potency.

She welcomed the sensation of shadow-travel; the high-speed tunneling and pitch-black atmosphere wasn't exactly conducive to a rigorous analysis of Nico di Angelo's inner psyche. Within moments, she, Percy, and Nico stood blinking in the crisp, December sun, ten feet from the camp's border. "It's around eleven in the morning," Annabeth announced, calculating the time conversion in her head. "Everyone's probably finishing up their last activities before lunch." She turned to face the boys when neither responded. That's when she remembered how much long-distance shadow-travel took out of Nico. Like back at King's Cross, he was on the ground, out cold. Percy crouched beside him, fixing his limbs so they laid flat on the grass, instead of at whatever weird angles they had been in when Nico fell before. "I'll grab help," Annabeth offered, then bolted towards the Big House.

Chiron stood on the porch, playing pinochle with Mr. D and a couple of satyrs and nymphs that Annabeth didn't recognize. "Annabeth." Chiron stood in greeting, a warm smile forming on his face. He trotted over to her, then embraced her like a father. "How goes the quest, child?"

"It's going," Annabeth replied, playing off her frustration as amusement. "But it's slow. I'll fill you in at Wednesday's meeting. Right now, we have a certain son of Hades passed out by Thalia's Tree."

"Ah, yes." Chiron turned back towards Mr. D. "Continue without me. I daresay I had hardly a chance of winning, even without the interruption." Mr. D nodded, eyes never leaving his hand of cards. Annabeth was glad he paid her no mind, since the last thing she wanted to deal with was the drunken god of wine calling her "that Annie girl" and threatening to turn her mad when she corrected him.

_ After eleven years, you would think he'd get tired of that stupid charade. Nope. _

Chiron galloped towards Thalia's Tree, to carry Nico to the Big House. Annabeth walked in the other direction, to the infirmary. She glanced around at the empty beds until her meandering gaze landed on - "Lou!"

Lou Ellen turned, her green eyes lighting up when she saw Annabeth. She smiled in greeting, allowing the bed she'd been making to finish itself up with magic. "Annabeth! Long time no see. How's the quest? My mother's realm? Everything going well?"

Annabeth nodded, refusing to let her smile falter. She liked Lou fine, but she wouldn't dare insult Hecate's realm or tell her how bad the quest was going. Lou was easygoing, but also the head counselor of Hecate, which meant that the goddess often spoke to her in dreams. If Lou mentioned to her mother that Annabeth had anything but good news... well, Hecate wasn't as forgiving as her eldest daughter.

"Hogwarts is amazing, and so is the rest of what I've seen of your mother's lands. It's another universe over there."

"I know. Mom brought me there just before the Battle of Manhattan. I got to live there that entire summer before I came here. Have you been to Diagon Alley yet?"

"No, but I'll make sure to add it to my list while I'm hunting Horcruxes," Annabeth joked, then decided it best to change the subject. "You dyed your hair?"

Lou ran her fingers through her raven locks, the tips now a vibrant green to match her eyes. "About a week ago. Cecil robbed a convenience store for me." She laughed. "So, what brings you to the Big House?"

"Nico's out cold, but Chiron should be here any second with him."

"That'll make Will happy."

"Oh gods, don't let me be here when he finds out."

"When he finds out what?" Right on cue, the son of Apollo walked into the infirmary, a teasing smirk on his lips. "How bad did Death Boy hurt himself this time?"

"Just the usual," Annabeth assured him, praying to her mother that he would save his anger for Nico, not she. "Chiron's coming with him, but the last time he made this trip, he was out for twenty-four hours, so I wouldn't expect him to be... well... picture a rag doll..."

"Ah, I figured." Will rolled his eyes. Annabeth thanked the gods that Will wasn't as high-strung about shadow-travel as she remembered. Maybe it had just been the severity of Nico's condition that had set him off last year. "I'll take care of him, Annabeth. Got a few remedies that might speed up recovery. We should have him back by dinner." He walked to the nearest bed and started to set it up for Nico's arrival. "Lou, I can handle Neeks. You can go to lunch. You too, Annabeth, and tell Percy the same. I'll let you all know when Patient Zero's ready for human contact again."

Almost on cue, the clomp, clomp, clomp of Chiron's hooves on hardwood fell on Annabeth's ears. "Got it," she said. "I'll keep Percy and Jason out of your hair until you say so.”

**____________________PERCY____________________**

 

****

"Percy!" Rachel Dare jogged towards him, wheeling a small suitcase behind her. She dropped her luggage at her feet, then pulled him into a friendly hug. "How are you? How's everything?"

"Good," Percy replied, releasing her to look her in the eye. "You just missed Annabeth and Nico; they're at the Big House."

"Nico passed out?"

"Wow, you must be psychic."

Rachel laughed. "I just got back from New Hampshire. Told my parents I couldn't get a flight until the 22nd so that I could attend the Winter Solstice meeting. I was hoping you'd finished the quest by now, though."

Percy sighed. "It's going pretty slow. You couldn't help out by any chance, explain that prophecy a bit more?"

Rachel gave a rueful smile. "I wish I could, but you know the Spirit of Delphi doesn't work like that. Although..." She paused for a second, thinking. "Nico mentioned that his father spoke of another prophecy, one from Hecate. I could try and dig that one up for you? It wouldn't be as accurate as the first; Hecate's predictions come from her limited, magical sight, rather than Apollo's divine visions. But it might be useful to know Hecate's take on the situation, alongside Delphi's."

"Rachel," Percy said, voice filled with gratitude. "That would be amazing."

"Hey, Purse!" Percy turned towards the sound of Jason's voice, and saw him, Leo, and Piper appeared from over the bend, sprinting towards him and Rachel.

“Hey! I’m not a handbag, Grace!”

Jason, being the fastest, reached him first, and threw his arms around the son of Poseidon. "It's been forever, man. I swear, I've never heard of a quest taking this long." He took a step back, then challenged Percy with a competitive glint in his eye. "Though, maybe that's just because the Romans trained me a bit better."

Percy scoffed. "You wish. If you'd like to take my place, though, I'm sure Riddle would be happy. Would buy him an extra year."

Piper cleared her throat. "Jason, for the hundredth time, I don't care if you want to flirt with Percy, just don't do it when I'm standing right here." She threw an exasperated look at Leo and Rachel, then gave Percy a hug of her own. "It's good to see you, Percy. Where's Annabeth and Nico?"

"Big House," Rachel answered for him.

"Annabeth'll meet us at lunch," Percy added. "Nico... whenever Will stops punishing him for the sheer amount of times he's almost killed himself during the quest so far." Piper released him, allowing Percy to give Leo a pointed stare. "What, no hug from the mechanic?"

"Organics," Leo scoffed. "I, unlike everyone else at this camp, am not in love with you. So, no, no hugs."

"Don't mind him," Piper teased. "He's just grumpy because Calypso won't be back for Christmas."

"Whatever. My girlfriend likes bamboo orchids and howler monkeys more than me. I don't care."

Percy chuckled, and shook his head. "Annabeth almost joined the Hunters a couple of years ago. At least Calypso isn't considering vowing to forswear all boys for eternity."

"Yeah," Leo argued. "But keyword there is almost,  _ idiota _ ."

Piper laughed. "Let Calypso have her flowers. She'll be back soon. It's not like she doesn't IM you a million times a day; when she comes back, you'll see how much she missed you."

The conch shell announced the beginning of lunch, putting the conversation on hold. "Let's eat," Jason decided. "And Perce, you'd better fill us in on all the details."

Percy shook his head. "Sorry Jason, you're going to have to wait for the meeting on Wednesday."

"Jerk."

"Jason!" Piper exclaimed, amused annoyance in her words. "Stop. Flirting." She pointed a sarcastic finger to herself. "Girlfriend."

"Hey," Percy teased. "Don't blame him. Like Leo said, everyone at this camp's pretty much in love with me."

Percy enjoyed his witty comment for about half a second... until four distinct people smacked him in the face at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you dare tell me that Hazel wouldn't say a million sassy made-up words. Because she totally would.
> 
> Also, THERE. LOU FREAKING ELLEN. STOP YELLING AT ME FOR NOT HAVING HER IN THE STORY. SHE'S IN THE STORY. AHHH.
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: He's not Riddle. He never was, and never will be.  
> SARA: Never say never (OR SHOULD I SAY NEVERSHOUTNEVER where my music fans at)  
> GIULIA: I am so glad you amended that because I would have ripped out your liver and sold it on the black market for that Justin Bieber reference.  
> SARA: Even without the band name there, it's a saying not just a JB sing title.  
> LISSY: Unfortunately, the Canadian time bomb made it so every time someone says the adage, they're reminded of his stupid-ass song.  
> GIULIA: What Lissy said ^
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	24. Hazel's Boss at Naming Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico prepares for his departure on December 19th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Innuendo, Mature Sexual Themes (non-graphic), Self-Harm  
> Word Count: 2735
> 
>  
> 
> Hi sorry I stopped responding to comments. I had this week (my April break) to pack in about 2 months work for "Freedom Fighter" (my show if you didn't know) and it's all due tomorrow. So... my phone & computer are both on Do Not Disturb, I'm getting an average of 5 hours of sleep a night, and I've been up for 32 straight hours at this point. 
> 
> Point is, I'll respond to everything tomorrow. Thank God this is the only major deadline I have until the summer; this is why high school students shouldn't have a full-time job besides the schooling one.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ **NICO** ____________________ **  

 

Light danced on top of Nico's eyelids, changing the color of his inner eyelids from black to red. He rose a hand to face, and rubbed the tiredness from his eyes; when he managed to open them, black spots danced in his vision. Nico looked around, waiting for the spots to fade; the whitewashed walls and bare windows reminded him of a hospital. It took Nico a second to get his bearings... the infirmary. He was back at Camp Half-Blood.

"How many times have I told you not to long-distance shadow travel?"

Nico couldn't help himself; his eyes flickered towards the open doorway. Once there, they refused to budge, even though Nico knew he was staring. He couldn't look away, not with his eyes starved of such a sight for so long. They drank the image in, beach blond hair falling over the deepest, bluest eyes in history; strong, muscular arms covered by the hooded green sweatshirt on top of an orange camp T-shirt; blue jeans ripped and faded from the daily wear and tear of demigod training, beat-up black-and-white sneakers rimmed with neon orange... all looking at Nico di Angelo like he was the world.

Will Solace.

"Hi," Nico managed after a long pause, a stupid, uncontrolled smile on his face.

Will snorted, though he didn't take his eyes off Nico either. "That didn't even remotely answer my question."

"You know the answer already," Nico teased, though his voice was still one of awe, rather than mock. "I never listen to you."

That was as much as either boy could take. In less than a second, Will traversed the few feet that separated him from his boyfriend, and kissed him. It wasn't the same kiss as August, not an innocent kiss, not one of exploration, but one of want. It was rough, and it was physical, with Will pretty much on top of him and pressing him into the bed. It was one that, had the circumstances been any different, might've led to more than just a kiss.

And it was glorious.

Nico pulled him in with as much fervor, running his hands up and down Will's back, on his thigh, his arm, anywhere he could reach. Will's legs lay on top of his, their feet tangling together, hanging off the side the bed. Every inch of their bodies pressed together, and at every site of contact, Nico's skin felt on fire. Maybe it was a side-effect of Apollo's lineage, or just a result of passion, but Nico loved it. Wanted it. Wanted more.

"Will - " Nico gasped, the boy's name coming out more like a moan. "I missed you, I missed you so much, I - " Will adjusted his position, which made Nico groan, cutting himself off.

"I know," Will whispered. "Me too, I know."

Acting on instinct, Nico rolled over, to try and place himself on top of his boyfriend. Unfortunately, Nico's instincts forgot how tiny the bed was, and that moving in either direction would result in both boys falling off said bed and onto the floor. Now sprawled on the ground, both Nico and Will burst out laughing, embarrassment creeping onto Nico’s cheeks.

"Well... that kind of ruined the mood..." Nico noted, still laughing, but feeling awkward all the same.

Will laughed again, shaking his head at Nico. "It's fine, Neeks. We got two weeks, right?" He propped himself up, his lips an inch from Nico's ear. "And," he whispered, "I do have the Apollo cabin all to myself..."

The implications of Will's hanging words were enough to excite Nico again, enough that he forgot about the hazard of uncovering his arms under anyone's sight. But, Will never gave Nico the chance to finish what they'd started. He stood, fixed his clothes, then extended his hand towards Nico. "Come on, I promised Annabeth I'd have you up and out by dinner. I'm sure you want to say hi to everyone. It would be selfish to hog you too long."

Nico rolled his eyes, but took Will's hand, and stood. "I wish you were a little more selfish."

"Hey," Will teased, "Easy. The wait's what makes this fun."

_Sure, but, by this time tomorrow, you won't be my boyfriend anymore._

Nico almost swore he'd heard something shatter. Still, he let Will lead him to the Dining Pavilion, where the year-rounders ate dinner. A few people, like Lou Ellen and Rachel, had shown up for the Solstice meeting, but would likely head home for the holidays after. In total, most of the gods' tables had at least one person sitting at it, or one representative floating around the pavilion. The rules on where campers sat relaxed in the winter months, since so few campers stayed at camp.

Will joined Lou Ellen at her table, leaving Nico to head towards Percy and Jason. They both noticed him at the same time, and stood to greet him.

"Hey, man! How you feeling?" Percy asked.

"Better now," Nico said, a smile forming on his face. "Will's a pretty good doctor... just don't tell him I said that."

"Scout's honor," Percy joked. Jason waved Nico over to sit beside him, launching into the usual questions the moment he sat down: how the quest was going, if there was any progress, how he liked Hogwarts, how many times Annabeth had saved Percy's ass, etc. Under normal circumstances, Nico would've let Percy handle his brofriend, as Hazel had labeled them. But, Nico also knew how soon he'd disappear from Jason's life. Even if it was only a temporary leave, it might be a long time before Nico came out of hiding. Jason took it hard whenever Nico shut him out; the least he could do was answer his friend's questions now.

At the campfire, Nico hung out with Leo and Piper alongside Jason, Percy, and Annabeth; the night consisted of his friends trying to force Nico to sing along with the campfire songs, which he refused on basic principle. There was running around, some charmspeak, a threat of a Percicane or Gracenado (also Hazel's naming skills), then various rubber bands flung at him from Leo's toolbelt. By the end of the night, Nico hadn't sung a note, but he and all his friends were hysterical in a way that Nico could only describe as drunk on life.

When the ashes of the fire had burned out, Nico remained the only person still sitting there. He thought of Hestia - not the follower of Hecate, but the goddess - who he'd met there six years before. He saw her tending to the flames every now and again, but tonight she hadn't shown. Maybe that was better. Nico liked to confide in her, but any information - accidental or otherwise - could thwart his escape plan. Hestia was his father's sister, after all; she wouldn't keep secrets from her family.

"Hey."

Nico turned, and saw Percy's face in the moonlight. "Oh, hi. I thought you'd be with Annabeth or something."

"'Cause there's less of a chance of us getting caught?" Percy asked with a chuckle. "Nah, she's holed up in her cabin, with some books on quantum mechanics, or whatever it is that smart people read about." Percy sat beside him, eyes fixed on the dying embers of flame. "You okay?"

"Huh?" Nico asked. "Yeah, 'course I'm okay... what made you think I wasn't?"

"You get this look." Percy outright laughed at Nico's shocked expression. "Not a bad one, just one that... well, you seem far away. Like you're planning something, thinking about something."

"I do?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about it, took me years to get a decent read on you, and even now I'm pretty shitty at it. You can still act like the dark and brooding son of death to the rest of the camp."

"Excuse you, Jackson, I _am_ the dark and brooding son of death. I've got the tragic backstory to prove it."

They both laughed that time. From over the Sound, Nico heard the faint sound of church bells, announcing the new hour: Midnight. December 18th. One last day before he had to say good-bye.

"You're doing it again," Percy informed him.

"I'm allowed to think."

"I know." Percy glanced back at the coals. "Mom's been asking about you; she won't admit that she misses you, but she does."

"That’s Sally for you," Nico added, smiling despite himself. "Loves too much."

After Gaea's Awakening, Nico had drifted from camp to camp, trying to figure out exactly what to do next. His father called on him now and then for small tasks, but nothing like before, like when war was brewing. Before July, he'd ended up at the Jackson apartment, at first just to see Percy on his way to and from Camp Half-Blood, but his visits grew longer and longer each time. It got to the point where Sally and Paul just left sheets on their couch, half-expecting Nico to show up and spend the night. Near the end of August, Sally had sat Nico down at her kitchen counter, and forced him to admit what he never could before.

"You know I love these visits of yours, Nico, but this can't last forever. You understand that, right?"

"Yes, Ms. Jackson - "

"Sally, dear."

"Sorry... Yes, Sally. I just... don't know what to make of myself right now, I guess."

Sally laughed, the kind of laugh that brought out the lines around her eyes. "You're fifteen, Nico. You're not supposed to know what to make of yourself yet. I'm nearly forty, and I still don't know exactly what to do." She paused to fix her greenish-blue eyes on his brown, then continued, "But, I at least know that I'm headed in the right direction. You've gone through so much at such a young age. I know first-hand what that's like; I'm sure Percy told you about my parents. If there's one thing I can tell you, it's that the first step back into the real world is the hardest. But you have to try, okay? For me."

Nico nodded his head, unable to speak. Sally smiled, the smile a mother gives to a son, then turned to an overhead cabinet to grab a glass. Nico watched her; he watched her fill the cup with tap water, turn towards the direction of her office, take one step towards the doorway, then two -

"Sally?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Would it... could I... I don't know how New York works but... school? High school? Is that possible? For me?"

Sally turned again, that smile back, eyes now soft and teary. "Of course, Nico. I'll discuss the details with Paul as soon as he gets home. And you can stay here for as long as you like."

And, in the blink of an eye, Nico found the closest thing he'd ever had to a real, honest-to-Olympus home. Percy started his senior year as Nico entered the school system for the first time in almost a decade as a freshman at Goode. They never talked about the situation, it was just something that, well, that happened. Percy and Paul and Sally all treated him like a member of the family, and Nico was just fine with it all; he needed no label. It wasn't like they kept it a secret either; Annabeth often showed up at the Jackson's apartment and saw Nico there, but if she asked Percy what was up, Nico hadn't been a part of the conversation. The Romans just assumed he was at Camp Half-Blood, and the Greeks assumed he was at Camp Jupiter. He never bothered to correct them.

He didn't know if Sally had expected him to return for sophomore year, but the quest had put any education or normalcy on hold. He still IMed her and Paul when he got the chance, but this proved that it wasn't enough for Sally. It was weird, thinking of her missing him in the same kind of way she missed her own son, though Nico knew she felt it to a lesser extent than with Percy. He wanted to IM her and Paul one last time before he left, but that didn't look possible now. She'd invited him over for Christmas, and he'd agreed to go, which meant that there was no reason for him to IM her mere days before he'd see her in person. It would raise suspicions too much, which could mess up the whole plan.

"Nico?" Percy asked, snapping the son of Hades into reality.

"I gotta go," Nico mumbled, and sprinted back to the Hades cabin.

It was funny; even after months of being away from that corner of the bathroom, his towel and ambrosia ritual felt just as worn as it had back in August.

The morning of the 18th felt like the calm before a storm, the planning before a war, the final hours before euthanization. Nico ran through the list of people he had to say goodbye to: Hazel, Frank, and Reyna wouldn't show up until at least the next evening. Nico couldn't say goodbye in person, and he couldn't risk a suspicious IM. So, he sat on top of his bed, using the light of the morning sun coming through his window to write a message to each of them. A goodbye letter to each of them in Latin, so it was easier to read. Then, he wrote to Sally and Paul in Ancient Greek, saying everything he couldn't say before he left. He knew Percy would translate it for them.

By that point, it was already noon, but Nico couldn't stop writing. He wrote to anyone who'd miss him: Jason, Leo, Piper, Annabeth, Percy, Lou Ellen, Cecil, even a note to Chiron explaining all the ways camp had saved his life. By the time he finished, he'd filled up an entire notebook, one of those composition notebooks you got at WalMart for a dollar. He didn't rip any of the pages out, but kept it bound like a journal or a diary. A collection of good-byes, of excuses and thank yous and things he never could say before. He'd left the first page blank; on it, he wrote a table of contents, naming each person he'd addressed, and where they'd find their message. He closed the cover, and, on the center box where the name went, he wrote the most important message of all:

> **_Goodbye_ **

With nothing else to say, he closed the cover, and placed it all the way under his sheets, pushing it down to the foot of his bed. That way, even if for some reason someone glanced under his pillow or sheets, they wouldn't find the incriminating evidence early. He would reveal it that night, right before he left. He had one goodbye left to say, to the one person he hadn't addressed in that notebook. The sun had set, it was past six in the evening, and Nico couldn't put it off any longer.

It was time to break up with Will Solace.

Nico walked to the Apollo Cabin, figuring Will wouldn't be in the Big House this late. Every step was a dagger to the chest, and every atom in the air offered more and more resistance. It would be so easy to turn back, to hide the book, to pretend everything was okay, to keep Will and return to Hogwarts and continue betraying his friends.

 _No. I'm weak and I'm selfish, but I'm not stupid. I'm_ **_not_ ** _stupid._

Nico knocked at the cabin door. "Will," he whispered as loud as he could. "Will, it's me."

The door flew open to reveal Will's blinding smile. "Hey! Haven't seen you all day; what's up?"

"Nothing," Nico lied, and crossed the threshold.

Will shut the door behind him, and chuckled. "You know, there _is_ a rule about two campers being alone in a cabin together."

"I know; didn't think you'd care."

"I don't." His smile intact, Will walked towards his boyfriend in slow motion, each step echoing off the walls of the Apollo Cabin. Nico closed his eyes to keep from crying, using every ounce of willpower he had to keep the emotions out of his face. He felt Will's warm and inviting hands wrap around his waist, forehead touch forehead, breath hit his lips -

"Will. Stop."

Will pulled back, brow furrowed in confusion. "Is something wrong, Neeks?"

"Will..." Nico couldn't hide the emptiness from his voice any longer. "We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to comment, but it's not going to keep ya'll from crucifying me in comments... plus it's been 20 min since I started the posting process, and I REALLY need to get back to work...
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Unfortunately, Nico's instincts forgot how tiny the bed was...  
> LISSY: Brought to you by Sokka's instincts. Sokka's instincts, you were so funny I put a reference to you in my fic about a DIFFERENT fictional and mystical world.  
> SARA: I love it.  
> GIULIA: SOKKA'S INSTINCTS YOU UNDERSTAND ME HAHAHAHAHA
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	25. Percy Discovers a New OTP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of the Winter Solstice, Percy has a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Innuendo (SUPER SLIGHT)  
> Word Count: 2916
> 
>  
> 
> Ok, so bit embarrassing, but quick story time:
> 
> As you guys know, I wrote the entire fic before I started posting, so I could post once a week and know I'd finish the story and so on. The process my betas and I have done is pretty simple, I reread and revise each chapter, since I wrote most over a year ago and my writing has improved a LOT since then. Then, I share with them, they edit it, I reread the chapter and make changes, we do one last sweep, then wait for posting. Simple, right?
> 
> Well... remember how I said I'm a much better writer now? So, when I originally wrote this fic, I didn't realize that there was a plot hole so big in it that every chapter after Chapter 22 (where Harry "figures out" that Nico's Voldemort's son) had to be deleted and rewritten.
> 
> Yeah. So that's what I've been doing for about six weeks now, on and off, since I also put in about 40 hours a week on Freedom Fighter and am a full-time High School Junior with college to worry about. The same basic stuff is exactly the same - the final chapter's events are virtually the same - but how we get there has changed dramatically. Which I'm actually fine with, the plot got really convoluted after 22 anyway, so even if there wasn't a plot hole, I probably would've done the same.
> 
> Don't worry, everything's the same as it has been - one a week posts, same beta readers, and there's no way I'm not going to finish the story now that so many people are reading it. Plus, I like writing, so it's a passtime for me. In fact, the only reason I'm telling you guys this is because, due to the fact that the story's different, we have a different number of chapters.
> 
> How many? I don't know, but so far more than one chapter has divided into two. So, I'm not going to change the "37" up there into the real number until I completely finish rewriting the fic. But it will be changing, which means that this fic will be posting into August, and possibly September, depending on how long it ends up being. 
> 
> So, I'm hoping more time with this story is good news for you guys. I just thought I'd put in a quick explanation for when that number does change. Also, this means that my BBC Merlin fic (coming soon!) might start in January instead of September, since I need some time to write it after I finish revising the chapters here. I'll keep you guys updated - I'm hoping to be finished with the rewrite in the next two weeks, so we'll know soon!
> 
> Oh! Also, there's some actual mythology in this chapter, or at least references to it. I'll have quick clarifications and sources in the end notes. But, as Percy Jackson put it in "Percy Jackson's Greek Gods", 
> 
> "There’s like forty bajillion different versions of the myths, so don’t be all Well, I heard it a different way, so you’re WRONG!" 
> 
> I took a mythology course at my school last semester, and I got really close to the teacher. I literally went in and asked him about the myths I used for this chapter, and he gave me these sources. And yes, he knew it was for a fanfiction. He didn't care, because he's awesome. But, the reason I say this is because some of the versions I use are the ones I think fit best into the PJO universe, and the universe of the fic, but aren't the most well-known versions. So, you probably WILL think I'm wrong, but just wait to be angry until to you read the end notes. If you wanna correct me after that, be my guest.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

****

It was weird, being back in the Poseidon cabin. Percy had gotten used to sleeping in empty surroundings; he’d stopped noticing the empty chill that hung in the air, the looming shadows of empty bunks, the constant silence. Even when Tyson popped in for those rare but awesome visits, Percy never got used to the liveliness of his living there. It was a nice side-effect of seeing his brother, but not normal. Never normal.

Hogwarts had changed that.

After the conversation with Nico at the campfire, Percy had gone back to his cabin to get some much-needed sleep. But, for the first time since he was twelve, the lonely aura kept him awake. He was a city boy, used cars honking and pedestrians shouting lulling him to sleep. He’d been able to shift into what he called “summer mode” at Camp Half-Blood, letting the silence and waves of the Sound relax him instead, but, as he found out that night, that didn’t work anymore. Hogwarts felt more like camp than Manhattan; he’d started to associate the place with the godly side of his life, rather than the mortal. It made sense - the place  _ was _ housing him for a demigod quest - but, the side effect was that his “summer mode” had aligned itself with Hogwarts dorm life.

Percy never realized how used he’d grown to the Weasley twins’ mayhem until that night. He needed the crazy, magical experiments, the teasing and joking and sarcastic asides. He needed to tire himself out by staying up half the night, watching his friends attempt to charm his quill to write his Charms essay, then giving up and write a shit version of it himself, before peeling off his robe and crashing at three in the morning. The silence no longer calmed him. Instead, it felt ominous.

Lying in bed on December 20th - No, 21st, it was past 12:30 now - Percy couldn’t get over the feeling that something wasn’t right. No matter how many times he told himself it was just the dark, just the silence, the unexplainable dread washed over him and staved off any chance of sleep. He needed to rest; he had the Solstice meeting at noon, and then he was heading home to the city, where the evening with his mom and Paul was sure to be a whirlwind.

_ Maybe it’s just how peaceful it’s been. I’m not used to relaxing so much; I’m just not tired enough to sleep. _

That seemed like a possibility. He’d spent most of the last few days just hanging out with his friends: trading stories, competing at various camp activities, competing at extra-camp activities (like snowball fights), and so on. Leo had even taken everyone to Bunker 9 to show off some new gadgets he’d made, like a pair of flying shoes, inspired by Grover’s from their first quest.

“It’s exactly the same,” Leo had promised, “Except better. Also, not cursed to drag you into Tartarus.”

“Too bad,” Piper had joked. “I always thought that was their main selling point.”

Grover had bleated in indignation. “That’s ‘cause you weren’t wearing them!”

Then, there was Annabeth. Without hundreds of students (and Peeves) lurking about, they’d actually been able to spend time alone without interruption. Sometimes, they took advantage of the privacy in a more physical way (they were eighteen, after all), but, more often than not, they’d just enjoyed each other’s company, the silence, the freedom. Annabeth would prop one of her mythology books up on her leg and nestle her body into his, then read whatever it was out loud for him, commenting on what she would’ve done instead in such a dry tone Percy couldn’t help but laugh. And make sarcastic quips of his own, of course.

Everyone had arrived for the next day’s camp meeting. Reyna, Hazel, and Frank had all arrived the afternoon of the 19th, to a happy reunion of the former seven, complete with that high-pitched squealing Piper and Hazel always made fun of  _ other _ girls for doing. The Hunters had arrived that afternoon, with instructions from Artemis that Thalia should represent her girls in the meeting, and for them to stay in Cabin Eight until she returned from Olympus. The Grace sibling reunion had been heartwarming, with hugging and laughing and then Thalia pretending she didn’t have tears in her eyes. Then, she turned to Piper, and began what Percy and Jason had dubbed “the customary Thalian greeting of the girlfriend.” 

Thalia: “Jason looks happy. You’re fault, I guess?”

Piper: “I try.”

Thalia: “Just make sure he stays that way, or…” 

Lighting sound.

Piper: with a smile, “Yes, ma’am. 

Though everyone knew Thalia was joking, it was always somewhat threatening to any non-Pipers in the audience.

Hazel hadn’t gotten that same reunion with Nico; he had vanished on Bianca’s death day. And, while it did put a slight damper on things, everyone both expected it and knew it was temporary. Nico needed to deal with his grief in his own way, which meant rejecting society for a day or two. He always returned for the meeting, though still somber - but Hazel, Reyna, Jason, and the others always managed to pull him out of it by Christmas. And, now that Nico had become a kind of son to his mom and Paul, Christmas would be an even happier affair.

_ The cabin’s just messing with my head; nothing’s wrong. _

That thought finally lulled Percy to sleep. Which was the worst thing that could’ve happened; the one thing that a demigod should never, ever think before dreaming is “nothing’s wrong.” Because the gods always, always love to prove their children wrong. Always.

The glittering, black obsidian walls and polished bronze floor of Hades’ entry hall were as impressive and terrifying as ever. Hades himself, however, didn’t sit on his throne, like the last time Percy had seen him in this hall. He stood beside the throne. Instead, both hands on its side, supporting his weight by leaning on his arms. Next to him stood Queen Persephone, but he'd turned his back on her. His jaw clenched; his movements angular and too controlled; that purple fire in his eyes burned hotter and brighter than Percy had ever imagined it could. Hades looked downright furious.

That wasn’t even the scary thing. In the six years he’d known of the god, Percy had never,  _ ever _ heard of him hiding any kind of emotion - in any legend, not in any story of Nico’s or Hazel’s, not in Percy’s own personal experience. And now, despite the intensity of his, he kept the rest of his face unreadable, kept himself from screaming at Persephone, kept himself calm to the point of danger… and that set off an immediate red flag in Percy's mind.

Even if it hadn't; the trepidation on Persephone’s face would've.

“Husband,” Persephone begged, her voice hushed and imploring. “Please.”

“My mind's made up, my dear,” Hades responded; through his teeth were clenched, his words were monotone, even the supposed term of endearment for his wife. “I won't change it.”

“My lord, listen to me - ”

“I have.”

“You can’t do this - ”

“Yes, I can.”

“Wait just one more day - ”

“I won't wait one more minute, Persephone,” Hades snapped, his voice so devoid of emotion it made Percy want to run and cower. In his fury, Hades turned to his queen, and finally saw the panic in her eyes.

For the first time since he’d opened up a mythology textbook, Percy understood why people regarded the King and Queen of the Underworld as the only godly couple still in love. In maybe thirty seconds, they had the kind of exchange that only came from a bond made invincible from decades of communication and knowledge of the other. Even he and Annabeth hadn’t gotten anywhere close to that.

Hades met Persephone’s eyes and saw what Percy had noticed before - her fear. But, her husband saw more than that. In a glance, he did what Percy could only characterize as probe her thoughts. He didn’t look past her anxiety, but deeper into it, like he was reading her mind and searching for the source of her uneasiness. After a brief moment, Hades seemed to find what he was looking for. His eyes didn’t soften, but widened a bit, in realization and understanding.

“I have nothing to give my brother. He’ll never stand beside me without a reason to.”

Persephone’s face shifted from pure panic to clarity, then concerned determination. She suspected why he wouldn’t listen to her pleas, and it wasn’t irrational anger. Her eyes locked on his own, daring him to deny her what she wanted as she probed his mind, as he had hers ten seconds before. Hades let his iron curtain collapse, revealing the true motivation behind his actions:

Terror. Animalistic, desperate, hopeless terror.

Persephone took a step towards her husband; its echo bounced off the obsidian walls and hung in the intensified air. She lifted her palm, placed her fingers on Hades’ shoulder, brushed them down his arm, and let her hand settle in the crook of his elbow. All the while, she kept her eyes on his, this time in a more tender reassurance. It did nothing to quell the fierce alarm in his eyes, but that didn’t seem to be her intention. Instead, it acknowledged his fears and told him she’d stand beside him, no matter the fallout.

“Keep me sensible,” Hades breathed.

“Always,” she promised him.

All that, in twenty words, and thirty seconds. Even through his dread about whatever they’d been talking about, Percy knew that wasn’t the kind of interaction most people - godly or mortal - ever got to have.

A fluttering of wings revealed the three Kindly Ones, descending into the throne room. They landed at the foot of the thrones and assembled themselves into a triangle with Alecto at the point. They all kept their heads bowed to the floor out of either respect for the god and goddess, or fear of them; none seemed to realize how vulnerable a moment they’d walked in on. “My lord Hades, your guest has arrived,” Alecto announced.

Persephone gave the slightest nod in Hades’ direction. He took a millisecond to gather his revealed weakness back to where no one could see it, and fix his face into that steely rage. Persephone dropped her hand and morphed her expression to meet her husband’s violent indifference. Together, they parted, walked to their thrones, and sat, resuming their tenure as King and Queen of the Underworld.

“Send her in,” Hades’ voice boomed, gilded with power.

Even though he’d never seen the goddess in person before, Percy knew exactly who that was. She’d been mentioned in Nico’s “A History of Magic” textbook, as a supposed fictional patron of the magical arts. Hazel had never seen her, since the Mist always obscured her appearance, but the Mist didn’t work in demigod dreams. When Matilda Bagshot - or whatever her name was - reasoned that her fictional image came from the powerful witch, Morgan le Fay (Annabeth liked the King Arthur legend, he knew about her via osmosis), Percy could see where she was coming from. He’d seen pictures of that woman, and if she wasn’t at least a descendant of the goddess, Percy was a codfish.

Hecate looked exactly like her; she looked no older than twenty-one, and was definitely gorgeous enough to fit a seductress stereotype.

Glossy raven locks, thick and wavy but somehow smooth, fell down her back, ending at the bottom of her rib cage; the last inch of her hair flickered like green flames… Greek Fire. As she walked towards Hades and Persephone, a divine, invisible wind pushed her locks behind her, making the fire flicker even more; the rest of her hair looked the way models’ did when people shoved fans just behind the camera.

In her hair was a Greek headdress, the crown Rowena Ravenclaw modeled her diadem after; twin torches made of bronze twisted around the back of her head, forming a circlet, and crossing in the center, where Ravenclaw put her eagle. Instead of a sapphire, a large, thick glass case shone in the heart of the twin torches, filled with more Greek Fire. Hanging from the gem was a smaller jewel that rested on the center of her forehead. It showed the three periods of the day Hecate represented: morning, noon, and night. Since it was midnight, a dark night sky took up most of the jewel, with only a hint of a dawn on the bottom left of the circle, and a small sun on the bottom right.

Hecate’s pale skin shone with power, giving her whole body a bronze glow. Thick, angular eyebrows framed vibrant green eyes, so bright they glowed like a cat's in the dark. Her eyelashes were so thick and black they made it look like she’d spent hours applying some kind of makeup, and her lips were a dark red, the color of blood. The stark contrast of her eyes and lips to her alabaster skin made them both seem even more intense, even more mesmerizing.

Her dress was the same color as her lips, hugging her skin and outlining her figure so Percy could see the slight side-to-side sway of her hips with each step. The top was strapless and cut into a V-neck in the front, but dipped in the back so the dress began where her hair ended. The skirt fell down to the floor, and dragged for about three inches behind her, then erupted into emerald flames that trailed another six. Only the tips of her shoes peaked out under the skirt, black as her hair, though, from the tap of her steps, Percy deduced they had some kind of heel.

Hazel had described a she-dog and meerkat running beside the goddess, but she must’ve not taken them into the Underworld with her in their natural form. Instead, they were either represented by or transformed into two magical tattoos, etched in that vibrant green on the skin of her sternum, moving like the portraits at Hogwarts. The she-dog chased its tail while the meerkat laid beside it, either watching the chase, or sleeping. Two twin emerald tattoos also flickered on both her wrists, a bangle-like line half an inch thick filled the bottom half of her wrist, then turned into actual Greek Fire at the top, so she seemed to wear torches as bracelets.

She took each step towards Hades and Persephone like she was walking down a runway, eyes fixed on the Lord of the Dead. When she reached the foot of his throne, she gave a slight curtsy and dip of the head, saying, “Lord Hades,” in a surprisingly kind and pleasant voice. Not that Percy assumed the goddess would  _ act  _ like Morgan le Fay, but with Hades’ anger, he expected some sort of animosity. She then turned to Persephone and did the same, “Queen Persephone.”

“Lady Hecate,” Persephone echoed, her voice more emotionless than unkind, but Percy could still hear their bite. If Hecate did, though, she didn’t acknowledge them. She directed her attention back to Hades.

“I assume you invited me here to discuss your quest?” Even though it was a statement, Hecate phrased it like a question, again without any kind of distrust, anger, or anything but genuine kindness. “Or, maybe you decided to listen to my prophecy and let my champion, Harry Potter, defeat Lord Voldemort in his time?” Even that comment, while snide, seemed more playfully teasing then angrily mocking.

_ What in Tartarus is Hades so worked up about? _

“No,” Hades answered in a dry tone. “I only listen to Apollo’s prophecies, and that’s just because I have to.”

“Well, then, don’t blame me because the quest is taking longer than you expected,” Hecate concluded in that playful tone, then gave a good-natured smile at Persephone. “Quite stubborn, isn’t he?”

“At times,” Persephone agreed, her voice short.

Hecate glanced from Persephone to Hades in confusion, picking up on their hostility. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“My son has run off again,” Hades replied. “I hoped you’d know where he is, seeing how he’s helping you restore peace in your realm.”

“I’m afraid not,” Hecate apologized, and she really did sound sorry. “I have a hard enough time keeping track of  _ my  _ children… I could use my magic to locate him for you if you’re too busy to do so yourself.”

“I’m not,” Hades informed her, the indifference in his tone shifting to anger. “In fact, I tried what I knew, then Persephone, then her nature spirit handmaidens tried variants of nature magic. Nothing even came close to working; were I not the King of the Underworld, I’d think he was dead.”

_ What?! _

“That’s… unfortunate,” Hecate said, speechless from shock. “But, - forgive me if I offend you, Lord Hades - isn’t your son a bit of a flight risk? I’m sure everything’s all right, he likely found and taught himself a charm at Hogwarts, to try and give himself time alone. I’m sure it’ll wear off soon; there’s no cause for alarm, these things rarely last long.”

“‘Flight risk’?” Hades questioned, his temper rising. “‘Found and taught himself a charm’? That’s awfully convenient, it all being blameless happenstance.”

Hecate’s draw dropped. She scoffed in disbelief, rage mounting in her eyes. Every inch of her covered in Greek Fire doubled in size; the dog on her sternum stopped chasing her tail, and instead turned towards Hades, ready to attack. “You…  _ dare  _ accuse my followers of kidnapping your son?!”

“No, Hecate,” Hades snapped. “I dare accuse _you_ of kidnapping my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh duh duh!
> 
> Ok, quick clarification - I mean Morgan le Fay from the Arthurian legend, NOT Morgana from BBC Merlin. I know I'm a huge fan of the show, but they're two very different characters - namely, Morgana has a personality other than "hot seductress who has sex with anything that moves and is evil". I only mentioned her because JK Rowling has Merlin as a canon wizard in HP, so I figured that, by extension, Morgan le Fay would be a witch in the Wizarding World around the same time.
> 
> Ok, now on to the mythos notes, namely, did Persephone and Hades really love each other in Greek Mythos?: 
> 
> They did. Pretty simply, they WERE referred to as one of the only couples in Greek Mythology that loved each other. In fact, Persephone and Hades combined had maybe half a dozen affairs in all of Greek Mythology, because they cared for each other so much. These affairs almost always happened during the spring and summer, when they were apart, and had been for a while, which made one of them lonely.
> 
> The idea that Persephone hates Hades comes their most famous myth, Persephone's abduction, in today's culture. When the modern world looks at the couple, we don't see them as in love, because Hades kidnapped her. Which is good, because kidnap is a creepy way of getting someone to marry you, stalking isn't affection, and falling for a captor isn't love, it's Stockholm Syndrome. But, in the Greek Mythos, and in the PJO world, they DO love each other. It's just messed up how they got married.
> 
> Sources:  
> PERCY JACKSON'S GREEK GODS (Rick Riordan):  
> "She [Persephone] fell in love with Hades and made a place for herself in the Underworld."
> 
> HADES (riordan.wikia.com):  
> "Persephone got to stay with her husband [by eating the pomegrante]. She loves and respects him very much, calling him "my lord." Hades, on his part, goes so far as to claim that despite him being the god of wealth, Persephone is dearer to him than any precious metals or gems.
> 
> Hades greatly loves his wife, but during the time when she is away from him, he does not like to be alone. Hence, Hades seeks out mortal women during this time. Persephone hates hearing of his affairs, and detests his demigod children. Hades is apologetic about his girlfriends with Persephone, but she is still very displeased when they are mentioned. He has the fewest demigod children of the Big Three, not even having any mentioned in the old myths, due to his strong (for a god) devotion to his wife."
> 
> THE MYTH OF PERSEPHONE (Dr. Laura Strong, www.mythicarts.com):  
> "While she wished to see her mother up above, [Persephone] was torn by her desire to remain Hades' wife.
> 
> Hoping to comfort Persephone in her confusion, Hades came to his Queen's side. He gently kissed her forehead and urged her, "Do not fret, eat instead from this fruit I know you will like." As she pressed the red pomegranate seeds to her lips, she listened to his words.
> 
> For Persephone there is no remorse [when she returns to the Underworld in the winter]. She looks forward to the time she spends as Hades' Queen and wife, and to guiding those who have lost their way to the next phase of their life."
> 
>  
> 
> Ok. Now, if you disagree with the love thing, you can tell me so in comments, and we can talk/debate. I do enjoy discussing Greek Mythology, so I'll happily respond and provide more sources or whatever. As long as it's civil, I'm cool.
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:
> 
> We got two again, because the only one with all three of us talking happens to mention Freedom Fighter details that I can't legally let you guys see (the theater let me tell them certain things, so they could help me edit a scene or two in the show).
> 
> #1  
> STORY: Hades let his iron curtain collapse  
> GIULIA: Did you really just compare hades to the USSR?  
> LISSY: IT'S A SAYING  
> LISSY: But... possibly...
> 
> #2  
> STORY: "Keep me sensible," Hades breathed. / "Always," she promised him.  
> SARA: (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)  
> SARA: I love this  
> LISSY: I ship it sooooooo hard (like in the Greek Mythos AND pjo)  
> LISSY: Also, I had to include something adorbs for the Underworld couple after what the movie-that-shall-not-be-named did to their relationship.  
> LISSY: DAMMIT GREEK MYTHOLOGY GOT ONE FREAKING COUPLE SOMEWHAT RIGHT AND HOLLYWOOD FUCKED IT UP  
> SARA: TRUE.  
> SARA: May we never forget the Eragon movie. RIP.
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	26. In Which Persephone's a Badass Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's dream, part two; Persephone takes the lead in Hades' meeting with Hecate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Kidnap (mentioned), Sexual Themes (implied)  
> Word Count: 2916
> 
>  
> 
> Finally updated the chapter number! 43 total chapters - that won't change again. Probably.
> 
> Just a quick warning - I didn't put it in the trigger warnings, because I never even use the word, but I do imply via Greek Myth that a rape took place. Basically, if you've read the myth, Persephone's the result of Zeus raping Demeter via snake transformation (i am soooo not making this up). So... it's mentioned that Zeus doesn't really want Persephone on Olympus because she's a reminder to Demeter about said event. I don't use the word, and I don't describe it. It's just kinda there, so...
> 
> Also, worth repeating: I use less common versions of the myths in this chapter; please don't get mad at me because you think it might be wrong. I can't actually cite this source, since it's from a print-out my Mythology teacher gave to me months ago, and I've since lost said print out, but this isn't a school report, so even if I get some of the details wrong, I remember the gist quite well (#photographicmemoriesareboss).
> 
> So... yeah. Just trust me on dis!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

****

Percy’s mind was racing, reeling, and generally freaking out as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him.

_ Nico’s missing?! How can’t Hades find him?! Hecate’s magic is somehow involved?! Why does Hades suspect Hecate of kidnapping Nico?! _

_ Oh, yeah. And what on OLYMPUS is Hades so scared of?! _

Outside the son of Poseidon's thoughts, things were just as chaotic. Hecate, in all her blazing glory, looked downright murderous. The pockets of Greek Fire had taken over her whole body; her hair and dress were both completely aflame, her torchlets (Percy wasn’t as good as Hazel at naming things) had enveloped her arms, and her headdress and eyes both burned iron-hot.

Hades and Persephone bore the same expressions as they’d had most of the dream, but, seeing how they’d  _ already  _ looked ready to kill, that didn’t say much. It made sense why Persephone would’ve suspected her husband of acting without thought; if Nico were missing… the last time he’d disappeared without a trace, he’d ended up in Tartarus, then a bronze jar. As for her own anger, even if a lot of was likely for Hades’ sake, Percy knew the Queen of the Underworld had warmed up to her stepson… well, she didn’t want to kill him the way Amphitrite did Percy himself, anyway. Which, in the gods’ world, was as good as an “I love you.”

The only thing that didn’t make sense was why Hades was holding back. Persephone, Percy understood; she’d always been a voice of reason in her domain. But Hades? The only time Hades  _ ever _ held his temper was when someone or something (translation: Persephone and/or threat of Lightning War) held him back. As far as Percy knew, Zeus still had his Master Bolt, and, based on the conversation Percy had seen before Hecate arrived, Persephone had nothing to do with this sudden control of temper.

_ So... why now? Hades, what’s keeping you so calm? _

“I won’t stand here to listen to these accusations!” Hecate roared, flames rushing forward to frame her figure, extending so far forward they almost touched the foot of Hades’ throne. “You’re a coward, Hades! You  _ dare  _ blame me for your incompetence as a father - ”

Hades started to rise, but a dark, thorned vine with black roses instantly grew around his waist, holding him back. Persephone shot him a warning glance, instructing him to keep his temper under control. He begrudgingly stopped resisting the vine, and it slithered away from his lap.

“ - and do so in the depths of your realm, where you’re master, instead of in front of the council, where you’d be responsible for such lies?! Apologize at once, or you  _ will  _ pay for this - this weakness!”

“Explain, then,” Persephone challenged her, taking over for her fuming husband. Which was smart, since all the thorned vines in the world didn't look like they'd keep Hades from cutting up Hecate Kronos-style.

“I will explain  _ nothing _ ,” Hecate vowed. “I expected such a slight on my honor from your husband, Persephone, but you?! Against  _ me _ , your only visitor - your only friend - during your time in the Underworld?!”

“Millennia ago, Hecate,” Persephone reminded her. “You haven’t paid me company since before the fall of Rome.”

“If it weren’t for me, you would never see the sun!” Hecate screamed, her fury mounting to Hades’ level of dangerous. “You would be nothing more than a kidnapped goddess, a fallen beauty, a tale mothers use to warn their daughters of handsome strangers and immature, careless, ditzy, immature bimbos!”

Then came the final moment; the calm before the tsunami crashed to shore. Silence fell over the three gods. Hades, furious, terrified, desperate, worried, and now dying to spring to his wife’s defense. Hecate, enraged, fuming, insulted, dishonored, vengeful, and pushed to harsh words by a sense of disloyalty and unappreciation of her gifts.

But, no one doubted - for even a second - who was going to initiate the challenge, who was going to lay down the law and defend her honor.

Like spring itself, Persephone was a sweet, innocent beauty. She was gentle, kind, the break of dawn after weeks of snow and ice. She was the warmth of the April sun on your cheek, the fever of joy at the first March day that hit 65 degrees. She had the appearance of a sixteen-year-old girl, with long, soft, dark brown hair that curled into waves as gentle as a spring breeze. Everything about her was gentle, soft, youthful, and light: glossy, pink lips, bright, golden eyes, pale, baby-soft skin… it wasn’t hard to see why she’d caught Hades’ eye millennia ago; she was such a contrast to the constant, harsh darkness of his realm.

But, for the first time, Percy remembered the moodiness of spring, how it ran on pure emotion, shifting back and forth from hot to cold at a moment’s notice. Like spring, Persephone’s moods were - in general - harmless expressions of teenage rebellion, and only in the face of her mother, Demeter, or father, Zeus. An annoyance at most, like a day of sunny warmth, followed by a week of cold rains.

That didn’t mean that spring always kept things harmless, though. On that rare day, its controlled and gentle kindness gave way to the unimaginable. Spring wasn’t just the beginning of life anew, but the birth of hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, floods, thunderstorms. Too much cold or sudden warmth or influx of insects kills the crops, causing famine that starves thousands, which gives rise to plague, to poverty, to war.

Like that March day right before the Storm of the Century, Persephone’s appearance didn’t change; she was as gentle and youthful and beautiful as ever. But, though not one inch of her face or body had shifted the slightest amount, something behind her distant and cold stare carried the paralysis powers of ten drakons.

“Permission to speak my mind to your guest, my lord?” Persephone asked.

Hades didn’t dare deny her. He nodded his head, wariness in the small movement, knowing what was about to happen. He met Hecate’s eye, and the message was clear:

_ You  _ **_really_ ** _ shouldn’t have said that. _

“Let me make one thing clear, Hecate,” Persephone began, her eyes as dark and cold as a March storm, “I am not - nor will I ever be - nothing but a ‘kidnapped goddess’. You want to use that legend against my virtue, fine, but first,  _ know what you’re talking about. _ ”

Hecate opened her mouth to respond, but a flash from Hades’ eyes kept her silent.

_ Anything you say will make this worse, Hecate _ , his eyes warned.  _ You pissed her off, you ran your mouth, now deal with the consequences, before her anger and father’s power bring a tornado to my realm. _

“Because of the events of my birth, my mother didn’t trust the male gods. She declared me a maiden goddess for all eternity before I could speak. Any time even the most minor god attempted speaking to me, she’d appear before them and scare them off. And that’s not even to mention how little freedom I had. The only time I _ever_ left her side was when her nymphs took me to the mortal world and babysat me while they picked flowers and spoke to other nature spirits in the meadows. So I went whenever I could, to get a _moment_ to myself. I enjoyed the sun, the sky, the freedom - that idea that I went for the ‘pretty flowers’ came from Demeter’s bitterness _long_ after Hades and I married.”

Percy started to gather why this was such a touchy subject. Persephone only had a few famous myths: her birth, her marriage, that one time she cheated on Hades, and that one time a demigod hero played music to make her cry. None of them painted her as anything more than a dumb blond or a jealous wife; if her whole nature and most famous myth no longer resembled the truth... and she'd had an aeon to get more and more pissed about it...

“All the gods knew I wanted to marry, just to finally have a chance at freedom. I didn’t care who, I just wanted to escape. But, no god was brave enough to try for my hand, even if they found me attractive, because of my mother’s temper.”

“He stumbled on me in the meadows on the rare day he ascended into the mortal world and became infatuated with my beauty. He returned, day after day, to watch me with the nymphs, never realizing I was the off-limits Persephone. He overheard me speaking to one of my handmaidens one day, complaining about my lack of suitors and desire to marry. I mentioned Mother by name; he realized who I was and that he could have me. So, he went to my father to ask for permission to make me his bride.”

Persephone let out a harsh laugh, like the sound of branches snapping in a harsh wind.

“Zeus had so many children with so many women, he’d become the god of absent fathers. Marriage would relieve him of what little responsibilities he had to me, and marriage to the God of the Underworld meant he’d never have to see me, and Demeter wouldn’t have a constant reminder of his violation of her. He knew she’d  _ never  _ bless any union he picked out for me, so he convinced Hades to kidnap me to the Underworld, so I’d marry him, and Demeter wouldn’t know until after I was Queen.”

“They waited until my mother was far away, and I left with my nymph bodyguards for the meadows. Zeus warmed the sky to exhaust my handmaidens with thirst, and they soon fell into a deep sleep. As a goddess, the heat didn’t affect me like it did them; in fact, I almost didn't notice it. All I knew was that I was alone and at last. I ran as fast as my legs could take me, drunk on freedom, tempting myself with images of escape, convincing myself I could outrun Mother. Even if I couldn’t, the thrill of trying was too glorious to deprive myself of. I’m a goddess of nature; we’re all free spirits. We can’t live in a cage for long.”

Her last sentence was the first that betrayed her profound sense of fury. There was only a drop of bitterness in them, a pinch of anger, but that was enough to scare the other two gods. Hades, no doubt thanking Olympus that wasn’t directed at him, acquired a sudden interest in the hems of his robes. Hecate had already been fighting not to wilt under Persephone’s glare; with that dangerous hint of hostility, she lost the battle. Her eyes widened - only a tiny bit, only for a millisecond - but it was enough. From her expression, Hecate was starting to clue in on what had brought Persephone to such a tangent - and it terrified her as much as the meeting scared Hades.

“But, my father was able to manipulate his grandmother, Gaea, in her sleep to wear me down for Hades. I’d run into a secluded valley, far from anyone, magical or mortal. Zeus grew flowers with such intoxicating smells they hypnotized me into stopping to pick them. When I pulled the flower from the Earth, I caused a slight disruption in Hades’ realm. He knew that was around the area where I often visited, so he knew it likely I, and went to claim his bride.”

“He erupted from the ground right in front of me, with his chariot and horses and sword at his side. I only saw the helmet that covered his face, engraved with the kind of grotesque imagery Mother never exposed me to. Caught off guard, I screamed and fell to the ground.”

Persephone gave her husband an amused glance, the drakon aura fading long enough from the room for Hades to make his first comment. “My mistake, to wear the helmet. But, it at least got a reaction from you; made sure you’d remember me.”

“As a demon,” Persephone reminded him with snarky amusement.

_ Maybe they’re less of an odd-couple than most give them credit for. _

“He realized the obvious and took off the helmet. I stopped screaming on the ground; I’d never seen him before, I had no idea who he was, and yet he seemed to know me. I was curious, this was the first stranger I’d ever met.”

Her eyes were still on Hades, and her amusement turned into a kind of nostalgia. “He waited for me to calm down, and ask who he was. He said, ‘I am Hades, Lord of the Underworld. I love you.’” She gave a soft smile in his direction, and for a second she looked just like her old self, the youthful beauty of spring, the light of Demeter’s life.

Then, she turned back to Hecate - still paralyzed with shock, anger, and fear - and resumed her terrifying, indifferent, challenging rage. Hades didn’t lower his eyes again. Instead, he watched his wife with wary eyes. He knew what was coming next; he’d lived through it, after all.

“Most retellings of the story just end it there, instead of finishing the conversation. Now, it states that I just screamed again, and he grabbed me, no doubt filling in for the abrupt ending over the millennia. But, why does no god on Olympus ever question why I’d fall in love with Hades if he were my kidnapper first? There was no Stockholm Syndrome in Ancient Greece, so they all just assume I was some stupid, submissive innocent who fantasized about a strong, powerful man to sweep me off my feet. Like you do, Hecate. I hate to inform you, but  _ you couldn’t be more wrong _ .”

Her the last few words of her sentence snarled at Hecate, which, coupled with her hostile aura and haughty demeanor, went past drakon bad, and into Khione territory.

“You know what happened next, what no ever seems to remember? I stared at him in surprise. He watched me, unable to control his nerves, unable to take his eyes off of me, waiting for me to say something. Finally, I managed, ‘I’ve never seen you before. How do you love me?’”

“‘I’ve watched you,’ he admitted to me, lowering his eyes in shame. ‘In the mortal world. I know you’re Persephone, daughter of my brother Zeus and Demeter.’”

“I kept silent; Hades assumed shock or repulsion had taken over me, because of the stalking. And, yes, I had my issues with that, but I was more confused than anything else. Mother forbade all talk of Hades around me, she, like the rest of them, decided him a cruel, angry, moody, dangerous god, obsessed with death, darkness, and torture. They acted as though he  _ chose  _ Erebos, instead of Zeus demanding it when he, Poseidon, and my husband dived up the world. Demeter decided her daughter shouldn’t know about such a ‘disgusting’ man. I didn’t even know he was a  _ major god _ until he referred to his relation to my father, much less that he was one of the brothers, with near unlimited power and control over the dark, shadows, and underworld.”

“He realized, from my silence and confused stare, that I’d never heard of him before. He explained how he was unwelcome on Olympus and banished to his realm under the Earth. ‘No one can enter Erebos unless I let them,’ he told me. ‘Even if Demeter found you, she couldn’t get you, unless I allow her to.’ And I knew he wouldn’t let her in without my permission. I could already see the depth in which he cared for me, even though we’d never spoken before. He respected me, and, despite my then lower status, viewed me as his equal, instead of a subservient being like my father, or a young daughter to protect, like my mother. So, I smiled at him, I took his hand, and I said, ‘then make me your bride.’ So, yes, he captured me... if consensual capture isn’t an oxymoron.”

“You heard that one scream, and assumed kidnap without any more information. I know your spells told you nothing; Hades and I together made sure to cover our trail with his dark magic and my nature. You _told my mother_ \- my overprotective, _insane_ mother who refused to let anyone _speak_ to me - that someone kidnapped me. It was so reasonable to her; it justified and strengthened her conclusion that I was some naïve little girl to protect. So, when Helios embellished what he’d seen from his chariot for some woman in a tavern, she decided it was the truth and her stubbornness set in. She wouldn’t believe anything else - even if I told her otherwise.”

“Meanwhile, I married Hades in his palace. I became Queen of the Underworld, a goddess, rather than a goddess’s daughter. At last, I had freedom from my mother; Hades let me do as I pleased. But, while I’d chosen the Underworld, it became a different kind of prison. Hades and I knew that if I so much as took a breath of fresh air on the surface world, Demeter would sense my presence and take me back. She’d never let me back into the mortal world without her by my side; though I’d taken a husband, I’d never see him again, and wouldn’t be able to use marriage to escape again. I couldn’t get married twice.”

“Hades, proving more and more unlike any god I’d ever met, refused to call me his bride. He love for me hadn’t waned after I joined him in his realm - in fact, it grew from its original obsessive infatuation to something much more lasting - but he wasn’t delusional. He married me because he loved me, I married him because he offered me freedom. I didn’t love him, and he refused to act otherwise. I would’ve performed any wifely duty he asked of me, but he forbade me from doing so unless or until I fell for him in return. ‘You’re my Queen,’ he kept saying, ‘And my love. But, I don’t like pretending you feel the same way. If I am to have you, I won’t have you from a sense of duty.’”

“That didn’t mean he didn’t try to win my affections, of course. Before Hades couldn’t speak to me, in case Mother found out and attacked him. Now, he had all the time in the world to woo me, until Demeter realized I wasn’t coming back and swore on the River Styx to allow me my freedom. Every day, he sent me bouquets of dazzling jewels, shaped like the flowers I could no longer see. He taught me my duties as Queen of the Underworld and allowed me the kind of power I’d only dreamed of as a forgotten princess of Zeus’s. Sometimes, I’d go whole days without seeing him, but I would always meet him at the ends of the day, when he ate his evening meal. I couldn’t eat Underworld food without being stuck there forever, oath or no oath. But, I enjoyed his company, so I sat at the table night after night.”

“It was in that dining room I began to fall, when I got to know my husband as a respectful, brave man. Temperamental, stubborn, impulsive, hot-headed, proud, and a bit obsessive? Yes, at times, but his faults were nothing compared to what I’d seen in my father or any other male god. He wasn’t arrogant, thinking he knew what I meant or what I wanted better than I did. He wasn’t lustful, though I knew his feelings and all that entailed, he never viewed me as anything less than his equal. And, though all of Olympus would’ve told me otherwise had they had the chance, I never saw his ‘famous’ cruelty. He never tried to force me into anything, when we fought he never treated me with disrespect in his anger, and afterward, he never held what I’d said in the heat of emotion against me.”

“Hermes began to inform him what was going on in the world above. My mother - with the idea _you_ planted in her mind - had stormed into Helios’s palace and demanded to know who’d kidnapped me. Terrified, Helios said only ‘Hades took her,’ not informing Mother that _I_ _wasn’t kidnapped_. She went to Olympus and demanded that Zeus order me from Erebos. When she realized my father had given Hades permission to marry me, she got angrier than she’d ever been and threatened to starve the Earth until Zeus did as she asked. When my father informed her that I’d _wanted_ to leave, she only got angrier, refused to believe the truth, and began her famine. Hades knew people dying for me would upset me; he didn’t want me to have to choose between my freedom and mortals’ deaths. Besides, he still loved me, and letting me go would mean he’d never lay eyes on me again, in person or through the shadows. So, he left me ignorant of the suffering.”

“I was none the wiser. Weeks passed, then months, and soon I hadn’t seen the mortal world in a season. But, I’d assumed my duties as Queen, and loved the power and prestige it gave me. I’d explored the depths of my new realm, and my knowledge of it had become second only to my husband. I missed the sun and the mortal world, I missed my nymphs and Olympus, but I found solace in Hades. I fell in love with him, in my own time, in my own way. I told him so one evening near the end of the season; I said I wanted to assume my place as his wife, as well as Queen. For a few days, life was more wonderful than it had ever been before, even on Olympus.”

“I found out about the secrecy, of course. I stumbled in when my husband was arguing with a spirit messenger; the first thing I heard was Hades say, ‘I will never give in! I don’t care how many mortals die!’ He’d always told me anything of importance, but this seemed like it had been going on for a while, and I knew nothing. I first assumed I was wrong, thinking he must’ve forgotten to tell me, or, out of context, it sounded like a bigger deal than it was. I made myself known, but when I saw his face, I knew this was no mistake. I demanded to know what was going on, and he said, ‘I can’t tell you, my love. It would only bring you pain.’”

“I got angry, I felt like he was no better than my mother, decided what I could and couldn’t know, assuming I was an innocent and trying to protect me. He saw those accusations in my eyes, and admitted the truth.”

“‘Your mother is angry. She knows that I took you for my wife, and assumes I did it by force. She’s trying to force Zeus into getting you back. Demeter is starving the entire world, letting thousands of people die until you’re returned to her. And now, Zeus has ordered it so. Hermes has come to take you away from me. He’ll be here soon.’ He crossed the room to me, my expression shifting from anger to fearful sadness, and took my hands. ‘You are my very existence now. You are more precious to me than all the jewels under the Earth. I’m sorry you have to stay in the dark, but I’ll be a good husband to you. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. I will  _ not  _ return you. If I must, I will counter Demeter’s attack. I will open the gates of the Underworld and let the dead flood into the world rather than release you!’”

“I stood there in shock. As overbearing as my mother was, she’d never hurt a daffodil before. My husband hadn’t kept this from me to shelter me, but because he knew - we  _ both  _ knew - this was my fault.While it was far from perfect, I loved my life in the Underworld. If I left, I’d lose it - and my beloved husband - forever. If I stayed, thousands of mortals would starve to death, on my conscience. A situation that, I remind you, Hecate, wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t assumed kidnap, and planted the idea in Demeter’s mind.”

Persephone had lost all indifference in her countenance; her eyes alone shone with more rage than a hurricane. Though he could only see the back of her head, Hades knew what was coming - that was obvious - and that old fear from before Hecate’s arrival was starting to resurface. Hecate herself, however, noticed nothing but the fury in Persephone’s story - fury directed at her.

“I stood there for longer than I can remember, staring at my lord, realizing the fervor in which he was fighting for me. For the first time, I realized the power of such a love; it had filled my waking hours with happiness, but could damn the world with as much ease as it saved me. He would never stop fighting for me, I knew that, but I was also his Queen, his equal. I told him to stop, though the words killed me, I said, ‘You must return me immediately.’ His eyes filled with such a grief, it broke my heart. I turned and ran, letting my feet take me wherever they pleased, crying, going through my memories of Erebos, and committing each to memory.”

“I stopped in a courtyard in the palace, one I’d never seen before. That was odd, I hadn’t stumbled on something new in my realm in weeks. Warm light shone almost as bright as the sun itself, down on fruit trees and flower patches and paths of ruby and topaz. It was the most beautiful garden I’d ever seen.”

“Hades appeared beside me, he said he’d prepared it for me as a wedding gift after I assumed my role as his wife. He introduced me to the gardener, Askalaphos, who designed it for me. I thanked him and ordered him to leave us alone. I turned to my husband, my love, and told him I couldn’t abandon him. Not when he’d done so much for me, not when he’d done this. He reminded me that staying might mean the end of the mortal world, but that he would fight for me if that were what I wanted. I prayed every god I could name for another way… and my eyes landed on a pomegranate tree.”

“I walked away from him, slow and silent, and he watched as I plucked a fruit off the tree. I said, ‘I can’t stay, knowing I’ll never see the sun, and that my mother suffers and kills for me. But, I can’t leave, knowing the kind of bliss I leave behind. A full fruit of Underworld food means staying trapped here forever. A part of it would mean a continued, but divided stay.’ He looked at me, like I was Athena, had Athena been born at the time. I tore open the pomegranate and ate a third of it, the longest I reasoned mortals could go without crops each year. When Hermes came to take me away, I told him what I’d done. I expected him to congratulate me on my thinking, but, instead, he assumed it had been a mistake of mine or a trick of Hades’. He only knew me as the airhead of Olympus, and since my mother had told  _ everyone  _ Hades  _ kidnapped _ me…”

She glared at Hecate in a pointed silence.

“So, Hecate, you got your previous statement half-right. I  _ am  _ nothing more than a kidnapped goddess, a fallen beauty, and a tale that mothers use to warn their daughters of handsome strangers and immature, careless, ditzy, immature bimbos. But, I’m not that  _ despite  _ you, I’m that  _ because  _ of you. If it weren’t for you, I’d be the goddess who defied her fate and chose her own future, the powerful Queen of the Underworld, the bride of the great god Hades! Instead, you forced me to make a choice between physical freedom and emotional, between the sun and the power of a realm, to choose between my mother and friends on Olympus and the husband I love. You forced me to settle for a compromise in which I leave my husband for months on end and let him grow lonely and have affairs! A compromise in which my mother is  _ still  _ convinced she saved me, and that I’m a young girl to protect from her wicked husband! If it weren’t for you, Hecate, things would’ve worked out as I planned, and Mother would not have made that oath so she could have me back. I’d be able to see my love as I chose, my realm as I chose, the sun as I wanted, and her as I chose. Instead of always one or the other, I could’ve had  _ both _ .”

“And, for you to use your single claim to fame to win favor on the Olympian Council while you still believed it to be true, fine. If I were a less powerful goddess - ”

Hecate’s eyes flashed, but she said nothing, still too afraid of Persephone to speak.

“ - I’d do the same. But, the moment I threw you out of this palace… you’re smart, Hecate. I have no doubt you figured out - or at least suspected - your mistake. For you then to claim us friends, pretend you were still my favorite attendant, manipulate my mother and use her influence as an Olympian to get lands and followers and power… that tells me more about your true nature than your cleverness. And, for you to throw such a lie back in  _ my _ face, in front of  _ my  _ husband, to achieve  _ your  _ ends… there’s only one reason you’d attempt such a thing - if you were guilty of every charge Lord Hades placed against you.”

Hecate's eyes darkened. Persephone stood from her throne and descended to where Hecate stood. The two goddesses were face to face, their faces inches apart, circling each other like wolves before a battle.

“You have your Wizarding World for one reason - my mother gifted you that land for being the goddess who led her to me. I’ve kept my mouth shut for millennia, Hecate, but this is where I draw the line. You  _ will  _ return my step-son to Hades, or I will  _ personally  _ stand before the Olympian council and vouch for your guilt. You’ll lose favor with Lord Zeus and Lady Hera forever. Your lands will be stripped from you, and you’ll be exiled for lying to the council for so long - if you’re not just thrown into Tartarus.”

Persephone allowed a pointed, pregnant pause, implying that she’d be more than happy with Hecate in Tartarus. Then, because she  _ was  _ Persephone, and Persephone acted like a moody teenager when she was angry, she snarled, “Who’s the bimbo  _ now _ , Hecate?”

Hecate’s fear turned back into a deep rage. Her Greek Fire flared up again, this time enveloping Persephone in its flames. Hades sprung from his throne, unmoving, but ready to jump to his wife’s aid if the fire injured her. They receded, but Persephone only looked more furious and set on her perceived justice. Besides, she was a Queen, and quite a powerful, regal, and more than competent one. She had her duties to her King and realm, beyond pure revenge.

“Where is Nico di Angelo?” Persephone demanded. “Where is my step-son?”

Hecate dropped her act for the first time. She let out a cruel laugh, the kind of laugh Percy imaged Morgan le Fay would’ve had. “My dear Persephone,” Hecate crooned, “You don’t  _ have  _ a step-son anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used duh duh duh last time, so...
> 
> DUH DUH DUH DUUUUUUH DUN DUN DUN DUUUUH
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: "I couldn't get married twice."  
> SARA: Bigamy exists  
> SARA: (timestamp 20 min later) this was meant to be a joke  
> LISSY: I know. I laughed.  
> LISSY: Bigamy does exist - just not in Greek Mythology (or culture)  
> LISSY: (that I know of, anyway)  
> SARA: With everything else that happened it really wouldn't surprise me in the least  
> GIULIA: hehehe bigamy. Sara, you crack me up.  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	27. All the Bombs Drop (and not just the literary ones!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's dream, part three; Persephone and Hades battle Hecate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Manipulation, Violence, Sexual themes (JUST MENTIONED AND NOT EVEN THAT REALLY)  
> Word Count: 3636
> 
>  
> 
> 20ish min late 'cause of Mother's Day. Sorry, but I was at dinner, and... yeah. 
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

****____________________PERCY____________________** **

 

 

If Hecate had looked like Morgan le Fay when she entered Hades’ Palace, if she had acted like Morgan le Fay when Hades accused her of kidnapping Nico, she _transformed_ into Morgan le Fay when she responded to Persephone’s fury.

For half a second, the throne room was in silence. Hades stood in front of his throne, staring at his wife and “guest” in front of him, trying to process Hecate’s words through undefinable amounts of rage. Persephone glared at her combatant, absolute hatred in her eyes, running through what would be the best course of action in her mind at lightning speed. Hecate trained her eyes on the Queen of the Underworld, then its King, smug arrogance contorting her features as she watched the two gods try to figure out what to do - what they _could_ do.

Still watching the scene play out, but safe in dream-form, Percy didn’t have to worry about action - not until he woke up, anyway. So, without having to deal with planning his next move, the son of Poseidon could let fear and worry envelop him.

_“You don’t have a stepson anymore”?! Does that mean Hecate killed him?! No… wouldn’t Hades and Persephone know if he were dead? Unless she used her magic to kidnap his soul after she murdered him, and is keeping captive in one of her caves in the Underworld. Or maybe she’d have put him in her lands in Great Britain. Or a different world like Ogygia - shit, even if he is alive, I’ll never be able to find him! Even the whole camp looking wouldn’t be able to search every possible world Hecate could’ve put him in! And, if he’s dead -_

Percy’s panic attack stopped short as the scene in front of him exploded. Persephone sprung at Hecate - not catfight level, she was _way_ more dignified than that - but, she screamed in anger and thrust both her hands towards Hecate. Vines - the same thorned kind with the black roses that she’d used to restrain Hades earlier - erupted from the floor of the palace, as thick as Percy’s shoulders were broad. Hecate muttered something under her breath - no doubt a spell in Ancient Greek - and shot into the air. The vines grew to follow her, but she was too good a flyer and managed to stay out of their reach.

“Get her!” Hades shouted, referring the Furies, who’d perched themselves in their usual spot on the throne as soon as Hecate arrived.

With a squawk, the three Kindly Ones launched into battle. Dead soldiers flooded into the throne room, holding Korean War era machine guns, and started firing Celestial Bronze bullets (patented by Dr. Chase) at the hovering goddess. The three attackers cornered her in five minutes flat. With maybe three seconds left before her capture, Hecate yelled a curse of her own.

Though the incantation was in Ancient Greek, and the words didn’t translate in Percy’s mind like usual (that just meant they had no English equivalent), he knew it had to be bad. Why? Because, backed in a corner, about to become a P.O.W., Hecate sounded like she’d just won the lottery.

Blue orbs - Percy recognized those from the Battle of Manhattan, when he’d seen them surrounding Olympus - shot from the Greek Fire circling her wrists. At light speed (they _were_ light, after all) they gathered in the center of the throne room. When the last small orb entered the larger circle - it took a literal second to get all the orbs together - they exploded.

H-bomb style.

The list of what didn’t get blown to bits was shorter than the list of what did. The entire throne room? The palace was rubble. The three furies? In Tartarus, along with any other non-god Hades employed within a mile of his palace. The dead Korean soldiers? Nothing but pure consciousness, along with any dead soul closer than Asphodel. The rosebush vines? Black pulp, along with Persephone’s garden, and any other courtyard.

Hades stared at Hecate, who was lowering herself to the ground, too calm for someone who’d just blown up his home. He seemed to be searching for a curse terrible enough to punish her. He scanned the rubble, trying to think of something, until he saw -

“Persephone!” Hades yelled, but it wasn’t a roar of anger, but a scream of anguish. He bolted to her side Percy didn’t want to look at the Queen of the Underworld, not if the sight of her made Hades react like that, but he forced himself to.

Had Helen of Troy fallen in the Trojan War, she would’ve resembled Persephone now. From the look in Hecate’s eye, she’d somehow planned this, or had at least known it would happen. Somehow, she’d ensured that Persephone would cripple in the blast, but not disfigure, not incinerate - she’d look just like herself, just like the Queen of the Underworld, but with painful, horrible injuries. It was all the more cruel to Hades who - despite Percy disliking with a passion - loved his wife more than his own existence.

First, Percy noticed her godly injuries. Her hair always curled and moved like it was in a spring breeze, but now it laid flat on the blackened rubble that used to be the floor of the throne room. Her eyes were wide open, but the golden glow had faded to a more human-like hazel. Her lips before the blast were shiny and pink, as though she wore a tinted lip gloss. Now, they had lost their magical makeup quality, and became too pale, like a hypothermic swimmer.

Then, there were the more mortal, obvious injuries. She bled golden Ichor from a thousand spots - both arms, legs, sternum, neck, shoulders, face - anywhere where the blast had scraped off enough skin to bleed. Thorns spiked the palms of her hands and bottoms of her fingers; she must’ve shielded her face on instinct. One thorn, a small one she couldn’t block, had lodged itself in her bottom lip, on the left side. It was a deep wound, with Ichor dripping down the side of her chin and onto the floor, adding to the puddle, which was a foot wide on every side and growing. The blast tore off her finger and toenails, some completely, others broken in excruciating ways. Her left hand rested on her stomach, but her right laid twisted at a funny angle by her head. She must’ve dropped right where she stood, because her legs bent into her, her feet sticking out on the left side of her body, halfway down her back.

Her dress - which, until the blast, had been the same as Percy remembered her winter dress looking like, faded colors that looked white at first, arranged to give the appearance that smoke covered her body - was nothing less than mutilated. Most of it was a mixture of black - scarred from the ash - and gold from her blood. The blast ripped the hems into jagged lines, so tattered remains littered her legs. The front of the dress, from the collar to the waistline, was nothing more than a few hanging threads across her otherwise naked chest (which Percy’s eyes avoided at all costs; if he ever saw Hades, and the god knew he had _that_ image in his head, he’d turn Percy into a cockroach and squash him).

Her crown - a tiara made of a mixture of pure gold and pure silver, with precious gems outlining the bottom, and a large, black opal on top - didn't survive the blast. Shards of silver, gold, opal, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, topaz, sapphire, and so on glittered the floor. One gemstone - it looked like jade - had flown about thirty feet away from Persephone’s body. Her other jewelry - necklaces and bracelets made of gemstones shaped into flowers - seemed to have gone the same way. Only her wedding ring remained on her finger, a band of actual black gold with a pinkish gem - a Pink Star Diamond, according to Hazel and Piper, the one time Persephone’s ring had come up in conversation - was in perfect condition, on her left ring finger, resting on her stomach.

_Wow. The wedding ring, Hecate? That’s harsh._

In summary, the powerful Queen of the Underworld looked like a godly corpse. Her skin was vampirish, like her lips. She wasn’t moving, she wasn’t breathing, and her eyes weren’t blinking. But, that wasn’t what worried Percy, nor caused that aura of grief in the Lord of the Dead as he knelt beside his wife, knees stained and surrounded by her blood.

Persephone had always been beautiful, but now she looked radiant. A warm glow surrounded her body, like the first lights of a new dawn. But, that wasn’t a good thing. Percy had never seen that light before but he learned what it meant - it was a form of healing magic, the kind the Apollo kids used to heal. There was too little of it in demigod blood for it to work; it only activated when a half-blood ate ambrosia or nectar, or another demigod transferred theirs to their patient in a healing spell for a short time.

But, gods were different.

The healing magic made up their blood the way red blood cells made up a mortal's. It was the reason their blood was a golden ichor, it was so potent in each drop. It kept them alive and immortal, allowed them to heal - quick and easy - from just about anything; the hue was the magic trying to do its job. Under normal circumstances, it shone for only a microsecond. Even then, it only happened when the damage was so extensive and plentiful that all the magic in the immortal's body required activation to heal the wounds.

The thing was, the magic didn’t work the way one would expect - it was an all-or-nothing kind of situation. The magic did nothing until there was enough of it to do everything; it couldn’t work piece by piece like the human body, you weren’t healed at all until there was enough magic present. Then, you recovered in an instant. And, the hue only came when every ounce of healing magic pressed to the wounds, to save the god. Their bodies couldn’t make more than what was already there; they’d maxed out the limit in their blood when they’d evolved from the Titans.

In conclusion: if Persephone had that glow long enough for anyone to see it… she wasn’t healing.

Ever.

For a full minute, as Hades stared at the broken body of his bride, he seemed to forget everything but the image of her wounds. Hecate might as well have disapparated like one of her followers for the amount of thought Hades paid her. If she wanted to, she could’ve walked out of there without him even noticing. But, she stayed, watching with a cruel smile as he mumbled some healing spells, trying to help Persephone’s magic heal her.

He only managed to make the hue a teeny bit brighter.

Percy couldn’t see Hades’ face; his back was to the son of Poseidon, and his face straight down at his Queen. He only saw a husband reach for the thorn in his wife’s lip, and pull it out with a hand so gentle he might’ve convinced himself she could still feel pain. He didn’t kiss her; he took her left hand in his, where his own wedding ring sat, and grazed the bottom of her pink diamond with his thumb. Without looking up, he spoke, in a voice Percy had only heard once before - when he’d stood beside the broken body of Maria di Angelo. But, he’d only known Bianca and Nico’s mom for a few years; that was maybe five minutes compared to the time he’d spent with Persephone. If he’d felt grief at that loss, it was nothing now.

“Why her?”

“She challenged me.”

“Why not me?”

“I was hoping for you. In fact, I expected it - you’re much more prone to anger than Queen Persephone.”

Her words were cool, calm, collected, cruel, and calculating. Despite what she’d said, there was no doubt in Percy’s mind that this was _exactly_ what she’d both wanted and expected. Hades not only noticed what Percy had, but seemed to know exactly what she meant. He looked like Olympus itself had fallen on his head.

“Η φλεγόμενη φιλί του θανάτου,” Hades whispered.

The words translated in Percy’s mind, and the realization hit him like a ton of drachmas in the gut. In an instant, it all made sense - everything, right down to the contradictions Percy first saw in over a year ago.

She’d chosen the Titans in the Second Titan War. She resented the gods, for not making her a major goddess, an Olympian. She’d been using Persephone’s abduction to gain power, but it hadn’t worked, so she saw her chance and took it. The Titans lost, and she failed... but, she pretended to see the error in her thinking and begged forgiveness. She granted Hazel ghost status to keep her in the mortal world, trained her and earned Hades’ begrudging debt. She bided her time.

Now, Hecate had Hazel as a ghost, and Nico as a captive. His children. His only children. She played dumb to let the truth warp Hades’ mind with fear - Hecate, a lowly Titan goddess, had manipulated him into giving up his children without him realizing it. For a _year_. That was what Percy had missed; that was the conversation just before his dream started. Hades had told Persephone everything, Persephone had begged him to challenge her at the council, but Hades knew she could manipulate them all.

She’d already gotten Olympus in her pocket. That’s how she got followers in the first place.

That’s where the control of his temper came from; a terrified Hades feared Hecate would outsmart him again, and something worse would happen. He was forcing himself to control his anger for Persephone’s sake - she’d be going in this time, to try and counter Hecate’s attacks. Running on an emotional, furious mind would cloud him of any dangers she might be in.

But, that had been Hecate’s plan all along. That’s why she didn’t just kill Nico outright, she captured him, hid him, scared the godly Erebos-lights out of Hades, so Persephone would take the lead. Hecate acted her part well, first the innocent to annoy the Queen of the Underworld, then in a ‘rage’ she dropped the perfect insults to launch Persephone into a rant. Persephone dropped the final insult, the last words she was famous for… and stepped into Hecate’s range.

Percy recalled a story he’d read in the Wizarding World. Ignatia Wildsmith, a child of Hecate in the middle ages who passed as a powerful wizard in her realm, received a gift from her mother on her 93rd birthday. The plant bore a blessing of Hecate’s, powdering its leaves and throwing that powder into torch fire - Hecate’s symbol - would allow the caster to control the flames and use it to embellish their magic, turning pure thought and wishes into unique spells. Ignatia, more greedy than she was smart, thought it would be a brilliant idea to amend the gift a bit, making it so the magical flames could only _transport_ the caster based on their thoughts, rather than do _anything._ Then, she sold it in Diagon Alley, made it so the powder would replace itself when used or sold, and made a fortune.

Then, two weeks later, Hecate found out, and Ignatia made it onto a Chocolate Frog card!

Though Floo Powder caught on, Hecate still used the flames for their original purpose - combat. It looked exactly like the Greek Fire she always wore when not in disguise, so it was super easy to sneak it into battle. And, she used the flames so rarely that no one ever suspected her to use them.

Why not use them all the time? You needed to surround yourself in the fire; her followers _stood_ in their fireplaces to use them as transport. The flames were hard to use, since most people don’t stand five feet in front of whoever they’re battling, if they can help it. And they usually can.

But, Persephone had to get in her last comment. Hecate pretended to freak out, but instead of pelting her with Greek Fire, she enveloped her in ‘harmless’, magical flames. She used their power to strip Persephone of whatever magic she used to protect herself in battle, then, when the attack came, Hecate let loose her nuclear powers with the Queen of the Underworld unable to defend herself.

Because that wasn’t harmless Floo Powder. It was Η φλεγόμενη φιλί του θανάτου. _I flegómeni filí tou thanátou_ … the flaming kiss of death.

After years watching Annabeth plan for wars, Percy knew Hecate’s plan. Hades didn’t have too many family members who were even _indifferent_ to him, much less loved - or even just liked - him. Because of the old Big Three Pact, Hades had only two children - Hazel and Nico. Them, plus Persephone, made up his family. Hecate just took them all away from him, right under his nose, in one, foul swoop. She wanted what she’d always wanted - his status as a major god, and his honorary spot as the 13th Olympian. To Hades, she wanted to break him into giving up.

But Hecate was smarter than that. She knew Hades couldn’t control his temper, and was fiercely loyal to those who showed him the slightest hint of love. If Hades would “open the gates of the Underworld and let the dead flood into the world” rather than let Demeter take Persephone, what would he do when a foe that always outsmarted every other god who might help him? He’d take matters into his own hands, declare war, and keep on fighting until Hecate was too scared to keep his family from him, until Zeus ordered her to bring them home.

Hades would cement his status as an angry, vengeful, irrational, uncontrollable god. Hecate did everything with a scapegoat - from any other god’s perspective, Hades was throwing a tantrum because he couldn’t have it all. As soon as Hades got what he wanted, it would all be over. A scared Olympic Council would strip Hades of his power. The gods would kill his children. They would force Persephone into divorce, and keep her from ever returning to her [ex-]husband’s side. Hades would have his realm taken away from him, chained like so many other enemies of Zeus, and banished to Tartarus.

As for Hecate? She’d proven she could take care of lands and followers for centuries, through the Wizarding World. She’d gain Erebos, status as a major god, and likely the full Olympianship Hades never got from his reputation as a scary guy. If she wanted, she could do the same thing to Zeus, and become Queen of Olympus.

Oh yeah. And the world would burn. All Percy could do was watch it happen.

His fingers still laced with hers, Hades drew Persephone’s left hand towards his chest. The pink diamond dug into his skin. He lowered his head; Percy could picture his face - eyes closed, taking solace in the slight physical pain to distract from the deep, emotional torment. He seemed worn down; his honor was nothing to him at that moment.

“Heal her,” he whispered. He didn’t even try to make it sound like a demand or even a request.

Hecate smiled at the small victory; she’d gotten a brother of Zeus to beg. “Why would I revive a woman who tried to capture me, Lord Hades?”

“You _will_ give her back to me,” Hades answered Hecate, his voice stronger now, more demanding, more hateful, more threatening. “And my son. And my daughter.”

Hecate smiled and gave a small laugh. Again, Percy couldn’t help but notice the similarity to -

_Wait a second… if Morgan le Fay and Merlin were both real wizards..._

“No. No, I won’t.”

_People always said she was his mistress when she studied with him… Merlin always denied sleeping with his student… even though she was of age…_

“Yes, Lady Hecate, you _will_.”

_Didn’t Bagshot say she disappeared, never to show her face again, and less than a year later, Merlin had a newborn baby… he always said Morgan wasn’t the child’s mother…_

“You still never answered my question. Why?”

_What if he wasn’t lying? What if he never did have an affair with a student, because she was training him, even though she was a young woman in the Middle Ages?_

“You think me weak, Hecate. You think you can break me into submission?”

_What if Morgan le Fay wasn’t the child’s mother because Morgan le Fay never existed?_

“Yes, Lord Hades. I do.”

_What if that was Hecate’s child?_

“You underestimate me, Titian. Now, give me my family back, or you _will_ regret it.”

_The son of Merlin and Hecate… who helped to teach his mother’s followers magic like she had her lover? Who co-founded the most prestigious school in his mother’s realm? Who made something so great, his own father sorted himself into his son’s house, so he could qualify to teach and be a part of it?_

“Why?”

_What if Salazar Slytherin was Hecate’s child?_

“Because, if you don’t comply by the year’s end, I will open the doors of Erebos and release the dead into the world. My warriors will find your pockets of followers and kill each and every one of them, along with anyone who gets in their way. If I don’t have my wife, daughter, and son free of harm and your influence by December 31st… the Underworld goes to war.”

 _What if_ **_Tom Riddle_ ** _was Hecate’s descendant?_

“Then we go to war,” Hecate agreed, with a cunning smile, and disapparated in a swoop of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd add in a sound effect, but I too much enjoy the silence of you staring in shock at the screen.
> 
> Oh, and Morgan le Fay and Merlin WERE lovers in the original legend. Sometimes. It depends on what version you read - it was written a long time ago. But, no, that's not my BBC Merlin shipper brain, it's actually true. Look it up if you don't believe me :P
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Hecate sounded like she’d just won the lottery.  
> SARA: Anyone else remember that really fucked up story called the Lottery?? Like, the villagers all drew stones and who ever got the black one they beat to death no matter prior relationships? I do. I will never forget it.  
> GIULIA: YES I LOVE THE LOTTERY SO MUCH  
> GIULIA: IT'S THE OG HUNGER GAMES  
> LISSY: YES I REMEMBER  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	28. We're Doomed...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Solstice Camp Meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 3555 
> 
>  
> 
> Ok, so I actually have multiple things to tell you guys.
> 
> First up, a quick clarification: I got a few people asking about the Hecate/Merlin/Voldemort lineage thing from the end of last chapter, so let me summarize it quickly: Hecate disguised herself as Morgan le Fay to teach Merlin, a great wizard. They ended up having a kid together, Slytherin, who was one of the founders of Hogwarts. Voldemort is a descendent of Slytherin according to the canon series, therefore Voldemort is also a descendant of Hecate. Which explains his above-average powers and knowledge of the Wizarding World.
> 
> Next, my show! "Freedom Fighter", as you know it, is officially past the concept phase! Which means that I can tell you that its official title is "A Deadly Game of Chess" and that a staged reading (open to the public!) will go up in the Ben Franklin Theater in Norwalk, CT sometime between January and June of 2017. It honestly depends on how fast the show's written, demo recorded, etc., but at least it's down from "sometime in 2017 maybe".
> 
> (the rest of the notes are about my musical, so if you don't care just skip to the story)
> 
> More good news? The script, demo cd, and concept art should be completed, copyrighted, and produced by the end of the summer. And, I have the official OK from the studio to release it online after the copyright date as a kind of beta run to see if the public would like the show enough to move it into a final production phase after the staged reading. Since all the materials are copyrighted under my personal company name (Rose & Sarai Musicals - the 'Sarai' is my co-playwright Peyton Sarai) I get to decide whether or not to charge to access it! And, being a poor student myself, I won't charge. Or, maybe like a dollar or something to give to charity, but not more than that.
> 
> And... *drumroll please* the staged reading I mentioned up there? Free? No. Sorry. We have to pay the theater. BUT, do you know what will be free? The livestream of the staged reading on my YouTube channel when it happens! So, if you want to see the show staged, sung, and acted (and, just for the record, there's only 5 parts - 2 female, 3 male, and Peyton & I are playing the two girls in the staged reading) you can no matter where you live!
> 
> I'll have more information on all of that as it comes. I can't release any artwork, songs, or scenes right now, because most of it's really rough and none is copyrighted. But, if I can release small samples between now and September (when I'll hopefully publish the script & co.) I might. Probably.
> 
> Final thing about my show! It has a LOT of non-Americans in it (like, of the 5 actors, exactly one plays a role with an American accent - and that particular role is in about 10 minutes of the 2 hour show) so I need help with the dialects a bit. I did as much research as I can, but research can only get you so far when it comes to culture. So, if you or someone who know has experience with the following accents/dialects/languages, please tell me! I just need someone to email with clarification questions every once in a while, than to proofread the final script for those specific dialectical errors. It's not a very time consuming job, I promise!
> 
> ACCENTS:  
> Bath, England  
> Scouse (aka Liverpool), England  
> Cork/Southern Irish (County Cork, not City Cork), Ireland  
> Belfast/Northern Irish, Northern Ireland  
> German (Berlin, specifically)
> 
> LANGUAGES:  
> German  
> Gaelic/Irish (I've seen both. I thought it was Gaelic, but someone correct me if I'm wrong)
> 
> Ok. That's it. For the languages, a basic understanding is fine, neither are used for more than a few words here and there - it is an American crowd, after all. But, for accuracy's sake (and you'll see what I mean if you read the script) I NEED those two languages sprinkled in the show. Trust me.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

 

“Oh my gods,” Will half-whispered, half-mumbled to himself. “Oh my gods…”

“Where could he be?” Hazel turned to Frank with tears in her eyes. “What did she do to him?”

“I’m going to kill her,” Jason vowed. “I don’t _care_ if she’s immortal, I am going to kill that - ”

“Heroes!” Chiron called the meeting back to attention. “I agree that this - news - is unsettling, but losing our heads will _not_ fix the situation."

The winter solstice meeting had convened, but whatever Chiron had wanted to discuss fell to the side. Percy had recounted his dream of Hades, Persephone, and Hecate, and, in the process, delivered the news about Nico’s disappearance and the impending war.

Annabeth stayed stoic during the entire recount. All she could think about was how stupid she’d acted, how arrogant and emotional she’d been. She _knew_ Nico had evil controlling his actions, _knew_ something had whispered in his ear since at least the second week they’d arrived at Hogwarts. Nico resembled Riddle in nature, sure, but he’d never _acted_ like Riddle before.

Before Hogwarts, anyway.

Instead of realizing something was off - like a child of Athena should - she buried her suspicions down and down, so as not to confront an uncomfortable truth. Her fatal flaw again; hubris told her that her gut instinct - Nico was acting like Riddle - was correct, rather than searching for a less obvious answer. She could’ve identified the situation before it escalated, or, at the very least, talked to Nico about what was going on. If he didn’t realize the danger of the voice in his head, he’d tell Annabeth upfront. If he did but didn’t care, Annabeth would’ve been able to alert Chiron, who could’ve warned Hades and the other gods.

No; instead Annabeth operated with arrogance - chose to operate with arrogance - and allowed Hecate to destroy the mortal world to get her spot on the Olympic Council. She, like everyone else, had played into the goddess’s hands.

“Lou Ellen,” Chiron continued, “has your mother clued you in on anything that might help us delay or stop the war?”

“I…” Lou Ellen looked startled; her face was a ghostly white. “Yes, I… but, I never thought… I never…”

The realism of the situation overwhelmed her. She broke into sobs, shaking and holding her arms. Will put his arm around her, and she buried her face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Lou,” he said, though his voice sounded distant. “You didn’t know; none of us knew.”

After a moment, Lou got ahold of herself. She spoke into Will’s shoulder. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this…  it was meant to be a blessing…” she began, her voice shaking. “Mom started appearing to me in dreams more and more often during the Second Giant War…”

She took another deep breath, shutting her eyes. She pushed Will’s arm away and faced the group again. When she continued, her voice was still weak, but she no longer sounded in danger of breaking down.

“She never asked me about Nico. She said she wanted updates on camp; my half-brother, Alabaster, had found a way to lead the children of Hecate to peace. He was the rallying point for a lot of us in Kronos’s army - Mom kept me in the Wizarding World during the war, but I still heard stories about him. We all admired him, even if he refused to come to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Why not?” Thalia asked. “The gods forgave the demigods who supported Kronos.”

“The dishonor of surrender,” Reyna answered her. “For most of Hecate’s children, they followed Alabaster - and Saturn - without thought. When the gods offered them a home, they took it. But Alabaster - a leader, a commander - forgiveness was unconditional surrender. Humiliation.”

“But, ‘lead the children of Hecate to peace’?” Frank asked. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a kind of curse,” Lou Ellen explained. “Since Hecate began siring children, we all tended to rally behind a powerful half-sibling. When someone got too powerful and challenged that status quo - someone died. Mom instructed Alabaster to find some way to break the cycle near the beginning of Gaea’s awakening. He found it.”

“Mom told me to keep things a secret until everything worked out. She said she’d figured out a way to make herself an Olympian, and Alabaster to turn her realm into a haven for us. Instead of staying at Camp, a place for demigods when she herself is a Titan, we’d have our own place to live and learn, the space and safety to work and improve our powers until the natural-born sorcerers were no stronger than the rest of us. It’s what we’ve always wanted; I kept my mouth shut, and vowed to do so until Mom told me otherwise.”

“But you must’ve known about the quest!” Percy accused her. “Why didn’t you say anything then? If we knew Hecate planned to become an Olympian, we could’ve stopped this before it started!”

“After you left, we spread the news, but not the details,” Piper told him, her voice bitter with hindsight. “We knew Hades wanted to keep things quiet, so we just said you’d taken a quest. We didn’t say where, or what for.”

“I mentioned the quest to her for the first time a few weeks ago,” Will added, his voice still empty. “She didn’t even know where you guys were, much less what you were doing.”

_Oh…_

“Our conversation in the Big House,” Annabeth realized. “You were trying to figure out what we were doing.”

“Yeah,” Lou confirmed.

“So this was all a ploy,” Hazel remarked, enraged. “Hecate just wanted my brother in her realm to do whatever she did to him.”

“Lou,” Chiron addressed her. “Have you any idea - ”

“No!” Lou protested, desperate and angry and tired of accusations. “If I knew what spell she put Nico under - it could be a thousand I know of, and Mom has more than just that in her arsenal.”

“But why would the Oracle give me a prophecy for a fake quest?” Rachel asked. “The spirit shouldn’t have responded to Nico’s question if everything was a ruse. If Hecate didn’t want Riddle’s horcruxes - ”

“What?!” Lou cried in alarm. “You’re _hunting Riddle’s horcruxes_?!”

“Please tell me that isn’t part of Hecate’s plan,” Percy groaned. “How could killing Riddle help her get to Olympus?”

“It won’t,” Lou explained, her voice now frantic. “It’s for us. She doesn’t _want_ Riddle dead, she’d never _let_ him die!”

“Why not?” Annabeth asked. “He’s a murderer; he’s killed countless of her followers.”

“The curse; she’d never kill her descendant when her children already kill so many of them.”

“Her what?!” Leo yelled. “Riddle’s - ”

“Yeah,” Percy confirmed. “Salazar Slytherin’s descendant, right? Great times a million grandchild with Merlin? She’s Morgan le Fey, isn’t she?”

Lou nodded. Annabeth’s head was reeling, but she forced herself to process the new information. She couldn’t lose her mind to shock or any other emotion now, not after last time. Not after how it got her into this mess in the first place.

“What’s she planning on doing, then?” Annabeth asked. “Why have us hunt horcruxes if she has no intention of killing - or letting anyone else kill - Riddle?”

“For us,” Lou repeated. “To save us. She wants my half-siblings and me to live and work in the Wizarding World, but if things were as simple as giving us space, she’d have done it centuries ago. We need someone to rally behind, someone closer in match to her than any of us. Someone no one could ever challenge. Alabaster's too weak in his power, and not ruthless enough to do what it takes to scare us into peace. She wants Riddle to take over the Wizarding World, to become our probationary officer alongside our leader. She needs the horcruxes because you can’t turn a mortal immortal without their full soul in their body. When you destroy a horcrux, it kills the piece of the soul, but if you use magic - ”

“ - it pieces itself back together,” Annabeth finished in a whisper, confronting the unimaginable truth. “That’s why Hecate put it into Nico’s brain to hide the horcruxes instead of destroying them. She needs them.”

“We’re all dead,” Jason whispered. “Hecate knows where the horcruxes are… she has Nico di Angelo… we’ve got no way getting him to Hades before the deadline…”

“I am so sorry,” Lou sobbed, hot tears falling down her cheeks.

The entire room erupted into terror again. As Chiron struggled to quell the chaos, Annabeth - finally, thank Athena - got an idea. She met Rachel’s eye, and - thank Olympus - she knew what Annabeth wanted. By the time Chiron calmed everyone down, they were ready.

“We’re not doomed,” Annabeth began, standing up and assuming an authoritative air. “We’ve got this all wrong. The quest was never about Riddle; it was about Hecate. Which means that - and Rachel can confirm this - the prophecy was never about the horcrux hunt. It was about stopping the war.”

“Confirmed,” Rachel chirped, standing as well.

“Chiron?” Annabeth asked. Chiron nodded and backed up, letting Annabeth and Rachel take the head of the table.

“The answers are in the prophecy,” Rachel said. “Under normal circumstances, I advise against heroes predicting and planning based on Delphi’s predictions, but we know more than enough to untangle the riddle now. The Fates always give us a choice: whether or not to save the world. We just need to know how. I’ll repeat the prophecy, for those of you who never heard it, or forgot the exact wording:

Three demigods shall travel to the followers of Hecate…

The monster inside lets the dark one blood see…

On the brink of destruction, Poseidon and Athena unite…

The father of blackness has a great insight…

The friend is an enemy,

The enemy a friend…

Against a weak but powerful army,

The child must reveal his true self in the end...”

“Thank you, Rachel,” Annabeth continued. “Now, let’s unpack this. The first line is obvious; Percy, Nico, and I went to the Wizarding World, to the followers of Hecate. But the rest of the prophecy is not what it seems. Forget everything we guessed back in August, if you recall that conversation. We were all wrong.”

Annabeth waited for each person to acknowledge her words. Then, she nodded to Rachel, to repeat the next line.

“The monster inside shall let the dark one blood see.”

“The ‘monster’ was Hecate, and the ‘dark one’ Hades. Hecate was inside his head; through manipulation and scare tactics she controlled his thoughts and actions in a way second only to the Imperius curse, or other forms of outright possession. Because of this, Persephone bled. Hecate - in Hades’ head - set the situation up so Persephone would reach the point of death.”

“On the brink of destruction, Poseidon and Athena unite.”

“Percy and I thought that meant us, but it doesn’t. Poseidon refers to Brutus, the great-grandson of Aeneas of Troy, and son of Poseidon. He killed the giants that lived on his island, then named his new kingdom “Britain” after himself, then built _Trinovantum_ , or “New Troy” on the banks of the River Thames - what would become London. That’s why Britain conquered a fourth of the world by the seas; their leaders were descendants of Poseidon. And, we all know that George Washington was a son of Athena.”

“This line refers not to Percy and me, but to America and Britain. Specifically, the demigod world and the Wizarding. On the brink of destruction - the last days before Hades’ deadline - we have to unite against Hecate.”

“How?” Jason asked. “The Wizarding World won’t believe that the gods exist; they’re not going to follow a bunch of high schoolers.”

“We don’t need the entire Wizarding World to believe us,” Rachel answered. “Nor do we need to tell them all. The Fates send blessings in threes - and, based on Percy and Annabeth’s stories, they already sent us help.”

“No.” Percy got a dark look in his eyes. “Harry and his friends can’t be trusted. Harry’s probably the motivation Nico needed to run off! He’s been bullying and torturing the kid since September!”

“Nico mentioned that Hades said that Harry might help on you guys' quest,” Leo pointed out. “Sure, the death dude had no idea about Hecate’s plot, but he still might’ve been onto something.”

“They still wouldn’t believe us,” Percy protested.

“That’s why the Fates gave us the second set of three,” Annabeth said. “Nico, Blaise, and Hestia. They’re friends; even if they don’t believe us about the gods, they’ll want to help Nico if he’s in trouble. They’ll convince Harry, Ron, and Hermione to listen.”

“Don’t destroy the world over a grudge, man,” Jason warned him. “Nothing’s worth that.”

Percy sat in silence until he fixed his eyes on Hazel’s face. The grief in her eyes seemed to convince him to let go of his loyalty to Nico enough to say, “Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

Annabeth allowed herself a deep breath. It was working.

“The father of blackness has a great insight,” Rachel prompted.

“Hades, again,” Annabeth said. “But, this time, it’s the future. Percy said Hades doesn’t realize Hecate’s plot; we need to tell him in a way that he can’t refute. He won’t want to admit he’s made a mistake in defending his family.”

“Nico has to tell him,” Hazel supplied. “He’s doing this for my brother; if Nico tells him what Hecate’s done, it’ll be enough of a wake-up call for him to find another way to save my step-mom.”

No one wanted to address the elephant in the room, so Rachel moved on.

“The friend is an enemy; the enemy a friend.”

“Hecate’s our enemy, even though Hades trusted her.”

“Could Riddle be our friend somehow?” Reyna asked. “He might not want to assume a dictatorship role - ”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Frank said. “Nico told Hazel and me about Riddle. He’s a power-hungry, charismatic leader who plans on never dying. There’s no way he’d turn down Hecate’s offer.”

“Besides,” Rachel added, “Couplets in prophecies often refer to two equals, not an equal and inferior.”

“It’s Hades.”

Annabeth followed the voice with everyone else to… Will.

“What?” Hazel asked. “How could Pluto - ”

“He doesn’t care about the mortal world, or Olympus right now. He’s in love with Persephone, he just lost her, he’s going to do everything in his power to save her, even if that means getting involved in a war he knows is futile. Love… makes you do stupid things.”

_Make that two elephants in the room._

Rachel interrupted Annabeth’s thoughts with the final line. “Against a weak but powerful army, the child must reveal his true self in the end.”

“It was never Riddle,” Annabeth announced, trying to draw attention away from Will. “It was Hades. Will’s right; Hades is our foe. We can try and tell him what’s going on, but he won’t listen to us. He’ll tear the world down trying to get his wife back. His army of the dead will be stronger than anything we’ve seen, but it comes from that weakness Percy noticed in his dream. We were wrong; the army isn’t weak to us, it’s deadly from a sense of weakness.”

“We always knew ‘the child’ was Nico. Even he knew it. Whatever his ‘true self’ is, its reveal to his father’s army will somehow convince Hades to stand down. Maybe he’ll find a way to save Persephone, maybe not, but either way we’re going to need him to stop this war.”

“That’s our choice,” Rachel concluded. “Whether we search for Nico, or let him come to us. One leads to the destruction of Hecate’s plot, the other to the destruction of the world as we know it.”

“How is that a choice?!” Hazel cried. “We need Nico!”

“We can’t,” Lou Ellen shot her down. “My mom has a million hiding places in a dozen worlds. We can’t access half of them, and even if we searched the rest, it would take millennia. It’s not worth sending search parties when the probability of finding him is so small, and we’ll need trained manpower at the camps to try and stop Hades’ forces from destroying the mortal world.”

“Then don’t send everyone,” Will declared. “Send me.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, debating if they should address elephant #2. Lou Ellen decided to start the conversation. “Will… what’s going on with you?”

“It has to be me,” Will said, ignoring Lou Ellen. “Guys, we all know the fatal flaw in this plan - ”

_Elephant #2 side steps for #1._

“Hecate’s a master manipulator and sorceress. Nico might not _want_ to help us; he's either possessed or brainwashed or otherwise convinced into helping Hecate get her spot on Olympus, even if it means the destruction of everything. If I find him and he’s possessed, I can heal him with my own magic. If he’s brainwashed; I know enough mortal medicine to get through to him. If he’s in his right mind, but still won’t help… he’ll listen to me. And, only me. Because… he’s in love with me.”

Everyone stared at Will in utter shock. Not about Nico’s feelings - everyone had been placing bets on when the two would stop dancing around each other for _ages_ \- but, there was one way Will would say that. And, with the implication of that new information, it made a lot more sense why Will would act so distant.

“He told you so,” Annabeth said, with gentle words. “Before he left. You knew something was up, but you didn’t say anything, and now he’s gone. You blame yourself for not speaking up.”

Will let out a quiet, harsh scoff. “I’m the reason he’s gone. We… kind of had a thing, starting just before the quest. He wanted to keep things quiet for a bit, until he’d be ok with rumors and things… he came into my cabin around dinner on the 18th, the day before he ran off. He tried to break up with me… kept saying he had to… ‘I’m sorry Will, I can’t do this anymore, it’s too much…’”

Will paused and let out another harsh and breathy laugh.

“I asked him why… I knew something was wrong, but I was so caught up in my own godsdamn head I didn’t care… I should’ve known how much of a cry for help this was, but I didn’t care… and he said - he said, ‘I love you. I need you to know that. I love you and I’d sacrifice the world for you. But, I have to go, and I can’t take this with me.’

“I just stared at him, this stupid, dead, indifferent stare when he’d just told me what I’d wanted to hear since I met him at the Battle of Manhattan. I stood in the shadows, watching him for weeks as he built that stupid Hades’ Cabin, trying to get the nerve to talk to him. I got so angry at myself when he left that when he came back, I convinced myself he’d made that ‘no camp likes me’ thing up - and told him so, to his face - so I’d have someone else to blame. I spent a _year_ trying to get him to look at me as more than a friend, and he just told me what I could only hope for and I just stared at him…

“We stood there for so long, him trying to get the courage to leave. And I said nothing. Then, he looked at me with these animalistic, terrified eyes, and he said, ‘Tell me to stay. You don’t have to say it back, but tell me you want me to stay. And I’ll stay.’

“And do you know what I told him? The last thing I might _ever_ say to that stupid son of Hades I’ve been in love with for years? ‘I’m in no position to tell you what to do, Nico. We’re broken up, remember?’”

Will paused again, this time shaking his head, hating every word out of his mouth, every breath in his body, every fiber of his being.

“If he’s dead, I killed him. If he’s lost, I captured him. If he’s broken, I tortured him. I let him go once before; I won’t just stand near the Hades cabin this time. Not when I told him that no one in this world loves him anymore.”

The room lapsed back into silence. Lou Ellen looked like she wanted to try and comfort him, but knew he’d reject any sign of kindness. Instead, she spoke.

“I’ll go with Will. When we find Nico, that’ll make three. I need to show the gods that the children of Hecate stand behind Hades, not this insanity Mom calls a solution.”

There was a collective nod from the room. “It’s decided, then,” Chiron announced. “Percy and Annabeth will return to Hogwarts immediately, to find the chosen followers of Hecate and allow them to help.”

“And destroy the horcruxes,” Percy added. “We still need to kill Riddle to appease Hades, and taking away Riddle will at least hurt Hecate’s plan... maybe.”

“Agreed,” Chiron continued. “Will and Lou Ellen will search for Nico, who can stop this war before it starts. Good luck heroes - and pray the gods are on our side.”

_In short… we’re doomed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Alabaster stuff comes from "the demigod diaries" short story. It'll make more sense if you read it. 
> 
>  
> 
> No Beta Commentary today, due to my computer being glitchy and not letting me see the Google Drive comments. Sorry :(
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	29. Some Charismatic Mortal with an Arrogance Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Ron, and Hermione are sent back to Hogwarts early - the evening of December 21st.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 2351
> 
>  
> 
> The return of the Golden Trio! Yay!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**_ ___________________HERMIONE____________________**

After convincing her parents to let her return to the Wizarding World early, a long and nauseating ride on the Knight Bus, and the usual slapping of sense she was so prone to giving Harry (and Ron) over and over, Hermione wanted nothing more than to eat Mrs. Weasley's dinner, curl up with a book by the fire, read, then nod off. She crossed off some items on that list- dinner and a bit of reading, at least - but the events of that evening put a halt to any further plans.

Professor Snape arrived at Number 12 Grimmauld Place around nine o’clock, looking no more merry nor colorful despite Christmas being four days away. He said nothing to Hermione as he passed her on his way to the kitchen, where Sirius and Lupin sat in conversation. Hermione watched the three figures with curious eyes, but could hear nothing of their conversation; from the tenseness of their silhouettes, it looked like the usual bickering. Then, something happened which set that interaction apart from all the others. Sirius turned and walked to the steps, and Lupin out to the sitting room.

“Hermione.” He addressed her without any of his usual warmth, as though her name was that of a stranger. “Come here, please.”

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion but closed her book all the same. “Is everything - ”

“No questions. Just come into the kitchen, now.”

Hesitantly, Hermione walked into the room, where Snape still stood. Sirius returned moments later with Harry and Ron, looking equally confused and anxious. They all exchanged glances but said nothing. 

_ Is this about eavesdropping in St. Mungo's? Are we getting in trouble? _

No, that made no sense. If they knew about that, they would’ve addressed it before Hermione arrived. If it wasn’t about the break’s events, it had to be about something different. It had to be about Nico di Angelo. Voldemort’s son.

“You three are to return to Hogwarts,” Snape announced in his usual drawl. “Immediately.”

“What?!” Harry cried. “Do you what Umbridge will - ”

“Enough, Potter,” Snape cut him off. “You are to return to the Headmaster’s office within the next hour, with all your belongings. You are not to tell anyone outside the Order about this trip.”

“But - ”

“Harry,” Sirius interrupted him. It sounded physically painful for him to side with Snape. “Do as he says. Dumbledore asked him to send the message.”

“...Fine,” Harry mumbled as he turned and thundered up the stairs. Hermione and Ron exchanged another bewildered glance, then followed him to pack.

Having arrived only a few hours prior, Hermione had little to repack. The boys, on the other hand, took a quarter of an hour just to gather their clothes into their bags. Around nine forty-five, all three were packed. 

“You have any idea what’s going on?” Ron asked as they waited for Mrs. Weasley to grab extra Floo Powder.

“None,” Harry replied. 

Hermione was the first to step into the emerald flames with her bags in hand. She gave her friends one last nervous look, then cried, “Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts!”

She emerged in the familiar surroundings of the circular room and scanned for Dumbledore. Instead of the silver-haired professor sitting, hands folded, at his desk like usual, a blonde-haired, grey-eyed Seventh Year took his place. Standing in front of her, leaning against its left side was another Seventh Year, with dark hair and sea-green eyes.

Annabeth Chase. Percy Jackson. The teenage Death Eaters.

Hermione drew her wand. Jackson made a move to push himself up from the desk, but Chase’s hand on his arm kept him from closing the space. Hermione did nothing, waiting for them to make the first move. She knew from Harry’s encounter with Jackson - and Tonks’ with all three of them - how well they fought. Defense was one thing, but she wouldn’t engage them, especially not alone.

Ron came forward next, noticed Hermione’s guarded stance, and searched the room for its cause. When his eyes landed on the Death Eaters, he drew his wand and jumped beside her, angled slightly in front. Chase kept her expressionless eyes on the two of them; Jackson stared at the fireplace with such intent he seemed to want to destroy it with pure telepathy.

_ Harry. He’s waiting for Harry. _

And out Harry came, not a second after Hermione thought the words. As he emerged, a disarming charm hit both her and Ron, caught unawares. Before Harry noticed the Death Eaters, Jackson pounced; he grabbed Harry by the wrists and forced him to the ground like a Muggle policeman. Hermione spun around to discover the identity of her attackers - di Angelo’s Slytherin friend: Blaise Zabini and Hestia Carrow. Both had their wands pointed directly at her and Ron, keeping either of them from attempting to move. Chase stood from the desk and collected the wands from the ground, then motioned for Jackson to toss her Harry’s. He did so, eyes still on the squirming, grunting mess of a wizard below him.

“Now that that’s done,” Chase began, as though she’d just finished the dishes, “Let’s get down to business.”

 

**____________________RON____________________**

Ron was disarmed, trapped in a room with Death Eaters, with a wand pointed at his head. He’d watched his best friend pinned to the ground by a Death Eater twice his size, not only unarmed but completely exposed to attack. And, to make everything worse, his… girl with whom he had an interesting relationship… stood beside him, equally as vulnerable and in danger.

In short, if Ron could sum up the definition of “living nightmare”, this would be it.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Chase told them.

“Say that to the man you pinned on the floor!” Ron refuted. 

“He would’ve attacked us,” Chase pointed out. “You and Hermione wouldn’t instigate, which is why we left you alone.”

“Wish we had,” Ron muttered to himself, but loud enough that Chase still heard.

“Percy, let Harry go. He’s not exactly a threat without a wand,” Chase instructed. Jackson kept his hands on Harry’s body, unwilling to release him. “ _ Now _ , Percy,” she ordered.

With as much dislike as Sirius had enforcing Snape’s orders, Jackson stood. Harry scrambled up, and attempted to punch Jackson in the nose - but Jackson was too quick for that. In another second, Harry had a black eye found himself slumped against the wall, awake and somewhat alert but too out of it to attack again.

“Harry!” Hermione called.

“ ‘M okay,” Harry heaved. He didn’t sound okay.

“Are you done?” Chase asked, amused. “If you don’t attack us, we won’t hurt you.”

“Why should we believe anything you say?!” Ron challenged. “We know who you are! We’re not as daft as you think we are!”

“Wanna bet?” Jackson remarked, with more than a touch of sarcasm. 

“ _ Percy _ …” Chase warned him. Then, she turned back to Ron and Hermione. “You’re right, Ron.  You shouldn’t trust us, especially because of the knowledge you  _ think  _ you have. But you’re wrong about us. And you can believe that because of the facts.”

“We have all the facts we need,” Ron growled. “We know about the horcruxes. We know about Nico’s father. We know about the Lares and the dark magic.”

“Yes,” Chase conceded. “But you came to the wrong conclusion. You have the data, but you’re missing essential information. Hermione, you should’ve realized by now you and your friends came to a logical fallacy. Not everything adds up, does it?”

Hermione just stood there, glaring at Chase with her rational talk and calm air. Ron waited for her to speak, to fight back. “You’re right,” she said after a full minute of deliberation.

“Hermione!” Ron cried. 

“Ron, she  _ is  _ right!” Hermione argued. “Why would Dumbledore trust Death Eaters? Why would he let suspicious people into the school during a war? Why would they stay here for  _ months  _ without doing anything to infiltrate the Order or Hogwarts’ secrets? Why would Snape and Lupin and Sirius send us here just to be captured by Death Eaters? I’m not saying they’re trustworthy, but whatever’s going on - this doesn’t add up! If di Angelo really is the son of Voldemort - ”

“Wait, what?” Jackson interrupted. “Son of… how did you even… no! Oh, gods, gross!”

“He’s not?” Harry asked weakly, from his spot in the corner.

“That… yeah, that pretty much explains everything,” Chase mused. “No, he’s not. You were right in that we’re not just exchange students, but… no, we’re not agents of Riddle. We’re fighting him.”

“But…” A million thoughts swarmed in Ron’s head, trying to grapple the new information. “Isn’t Nico’s father the Lord of the Dead?”

“Yes,” Chase agreed. “But, the  _ actual _ Lord of the Dead. Not some charismatic mortal with an arrogance complex and fear of the unknown.”

“Wha…” Hermione could barely form a sentence, which drove home the impossibility of the situation. “But, isn’t Lord Voldemort - ”

“Please stop calling him that,” Chase said. “His name is Riddle. _Tom_ _Riddle_. ‘Voldemort’ is just a scary-sounding name that feeds into his flair for the dramatic. And, Lord? Lord of what? Slightly above average magical skills?”

Ron, nor Harry, nor Hermione said a word; all of them were rendered speechless by the pure lack of infamy Chase used in regards to You-Know-Who. It was almost as if…

“You’re not a witch, are you?” Ron asked. “That’s why you don’t carry a wand, and didn’t know how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.”

Chase raised her eyebrows at him. “No, I’m not. None of us are. Percy, Nico, and I entered the Wizarding World for the first time the day we ran across your family at King’s Cross.”

“So, who’s di Angelo’s father, then?”

“Hades.”

Hermione looked at Chase like she was insane; even Harry - slumped against the wall - seemed to think Chase had three heads. Ron had no idea why; he’d heard of people with weirder names - Bathilda Bagshot, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore… 

_ Maybe ‘Hades’ is some muggle thing? _

“You - you’re… you’re crazy!” Hermione cried. “How could you - he’s not - ”

“You might not want to finish that sentence,” Jackson interrupted. “He’s smited people for less.”

“Smited?” Ron questioned. “Like… killed?”

“Obliterated,” Jackson agreed. “Tried to get me, once. If Nico - ” The end of the sentence seemed to get lost in Jackson’s throat.

“And who are you?” Hermione asked with a bit and sarcastic voice, caught between disbelief and terror. “Hercules?”

“Perseus, actually,” Jackson joked, hiding whatever was bothering him behind a snarky smile. “Well… if we’re going with the metaphors, I think I’m more like… Theseus…”

“You are  _ not  _ Theseus,” Chase scolded.

“Yeah, I kind of am - son of Poseidon, slayed the Minotaur - twice, actually - navigated the Labyrinth with a girl who had a crush on me at the time - ”

When Chase whopped him on the back of the head, he shut up.

“You’re mental,” Harry spoke up, a little stronger than before. 

“They’re not,” Hestia Carrow intervened, speaking for the first time. “Harry, Hermione, I know it’s - crazy - but it’s true. Blaise and I saw Nico do things that shouldn’t be possible - wandless magic, disappearing into thin air, communicating through misty images... those skeletons back in September? That trip they wouldn’t talk about a few weeks ago? How the ghosts seemed to know him - know his father? The swords?”

“I’ll admit, something’s off,” Hermione conceded, “but that’s far from taking  _ any  _ of this seriously!”

“Why are you so unsure, Hermione?” Ron asked.

“Oh, you don’t know any of this, do you Ron?” Hermione was  _ definitely  _ freaking out, but for once she wasn’t blaming him for his ignorance. “These… names - Hades, Poseidon, Theseus, Minotaur? They’re a bunch of legends -  _ fictional _ myths - from the muggle world from two-thousand years ago. They were used to explain science before the concept was even an idea. They’re nice stories - Harry and I learned them in grade school before we came to Hogwarts - but they’re  _ not real _ !”

Ron looked at her in amazement, until her crazed eyes calmed a bit and stared back. “Hermione… don’t most Muggle-borns say that about the Wizarding World when it’s first described?”

“It’s real,” Blaise interjected. “I know it’s mad, but it’s all real.”

“We came here on a mission for Hades, to bring Tom Riddle back to the Underworld where he’ll be punished for cheating death twice.” Chase walked towards Ron, who found himself stepping forward to meet her. “My name is Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, the goddess of wisdom and warfare. That’s Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, god of the sea. Nico di Angelo, son of Hades - Lord of the Dead - led us until two days ago, when he disappeared without a trace and - we think - got captured by Hecate, the goddess of magic and Riddle’s ancestor. We need your help to find the last of Riddle’s horcruxes - what’s keeping him alive - so when friends of ours rescue Nico, he can kill Riddle. If we don’t finish this before the year’s end… Hades declares war on Hecate and everything ends.”

“The end of the world?” Ron asked, sounding more confident than he felt.

“Will you help us?” Chase - Annabeth - asked.

Ron looked back at Harry, no longer kept down from dizziness, but something else. He looked pale and sickly - not injured, but like his entire world was collapsing. Like he’d been fighting an internal war for a century, and just realized he forgot why the first shots had been fired. 

Ron shifted his gaze to Hermione, sheet white with terror, but a spark of determination in her eyes. That girl was brilliant and ruthless when it came to fighting for what she thought was right, even if she doubted herself. 

And then there was him, Ron Weasley, thrust into a leading role for the first time in his life. He’d always wanted to shine brighter than his siblings, and he’d never get a better chance. With his two best friends behind him, two Slytherins who knew Nico di Angelo better than anything, and two powerful half-gods on his side… maybe it wasn’t so crazy how little Annabeth feared Tom Riddle after all.

“Of course we will,” Ron said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys happy? Harry realizing he's a little shit? Ron getting a leadership role? The stupid "Voldemort's son" thing resolved? Hermione resolving it? No mentions of a certain goddess of spring's possible death...
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Slightly above average magical skills?  
> SARA: I love this  
> LISSY: Annabeth is me. I have said that SO MANY TIMES while reading HP  
> GIULIA: BAHAHAHAHAHA  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)
> 
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	30. That One Time Someone Talks to Harry Like a Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry struggles to come to terms with his treatment of Nico di Angelo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Self-Harm (mentioned only), Violent Imagery (non-graphic, referenced only)  
> Word Count: 3438
> 
>  
> 
> Ladies and gentlemen... the moment you've been waiting for... the pride of my fanfic... HARRY'S REPENTANCE
> 
> aka he feels like absolute shit and whatnot.  
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

****

Alone in the Gryffindor common room in the wee morning hours of December 22nd, one question consumed his every thought:

_ Who should I choose as my next role model? Dudley or Malfoy? _

To say Harry felt like absolute shit would rival “Sirius and Snape somewhat annoy each other” as the largest understatement of the A.D. Sitting alone in his armchair, Harry recounted all the horrible things he caused by jumping to the stupidest conclusion of his life out of sheer prejudice:

  1. Nico di Angelo was missing, likely brainwashed, and maybe _dead_ because Harry blackmailed him with what Hestia Carrow informed him was a mental illness (when he off-handedly mentioned it to her as a hypothetical).  
  

  2. Tom Riddle was still alive and had the best chance of his life to both rule the Wizarding World and kill anyone who looked at him funny because Harry kept pushing his friends to distract the demigods from hunting horcruxes.  
  

  3. An innocent goddess whose biggest crime was an argument lay in a puddle of her own blood because Nico ran to escape Harry’s unrelenting torture.  
  

  4. A grieving Greek God of the Underworld planned to unleash the dead on the Wizarding World - and commit genocide on every witch and wizard his army stumbled across - in a futile but relentless pursuit of his lost son. Who Harry drove away.  
  

  5. The apocalypse - when the other Olympians get involved in Hades’ and Hecate’s war and use any means necessary to stop them, without regard for any mortal life, muggle, wizard, or demigod.



_ Dudley. At least he follows parents unaffiliated with the Dark Lord. _

Neutrality. That was something Harry couldn’t claim. With all the damage he caused, he might as well draw the Dark Mark on his arm and start using  _ Crucio  _ on muggles for kicks.

Words couldn’t describe how he hated himself, abhorred every breath in his lungs, detested every beat of his heart, despised every thought in his brain that proved he still lived. Why should he think when Nico was brainwashed? Why should he have the freedom to do as he pleased when Nico was trapped in a cage? Why should he live when Nico di Angelo had already died?

Harry remembered watching the telly on those long ago days when his greatest joy was being home alone and let out of his cupboard. He knew the way things worked in programs - when the protagonist doubts himself, others interrupt his solitude to prove those doubts wrong. When the villain realizes the folly of his ways, those torturing thoughts persist into infinity.

No one interrupted his thoughts this time. If there were Fates - and Annabeth confirmed there were - they’d already passed judgment.

“Hey.”

Harry looked up in utter shock - what were the odds someone would find him the same moment he asked for an interruption?

“Sirius? What are you doing out of Grimmauld Place?”

Sirius chuckled, standing beside the fireplace. “After the number of times your father, Lupin, and I snuck out of Hogwarts, you think anyone could keep me in that house if I knew you needed me?”

“But… how…?”

“Ron. He used one of those Irish Message things to ask me to talk to you. I think he meant by owl, but I figured that was a little too slow. He said you took Dumbledore’s message a little harder than everyone else - wouldn’t tell me more than that, though.”

“Dumbledore’s…?” Harry realized Sirius meant Percy and Annabeth’s meeting earlier that evening. “Snape didn’t tell you about Percy and Annabeth?”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed in concern and anger. “Snivellus made us send you into the hands of  _ Death Eaters _ ?”

“Sirius…” Harry didn’t even try to keep his voice from cracking. “There’s only one servant of Lord Voldemort in the castle - and you’re looking right at him.”

Sirius glanced around the common room, to reaffirm no one was coming. It still being Christmas break, almost no one was in the castle, but almost didn’t mean they had zero chance of him getting caught. Sirius nodded back towards the Floo Powder; Harry knew what he meant - this would be a long conversation, and they couldn’t have it at Hogwarts while it still served Umbridge. Dumbledore’s aura kept her under control, kept her from finding out about Sirius’s Floo Powder adventures to talk to Harry, but that wouldn’t keep her out of the common room if she suspected an illegal visitor. Harry nodded, then let his godfather help him to stand. Sirius went first in the fire, then Harry, to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

The living room, filled with voices a few hours before, was dark and silent. Of course it was, everyone in the house was asleep. Sirius led Harry to a place he assumed his godfather knew no one would enter - a corner of the kitchen Harry had never spent time in and found hard to even recognize. Sirius opened up a dingy door opposite the pantry, to reveal a sleeping Kreacher in a small den filled with Black family heirlooms and a large, old-fashioned boiler. He woke the house elf with the usual coldness, disregarding the mumbled insults pouring from the sleeping creature.

“Kreacher! Go somewhere in the house where no one will find you, don’t draw any attention to yourself, and stay put until I tell you to come back. You’re forbidden to listen to this conversation, do anything that might give you information on this conversation, tell anyone about this conversation, or acknowledge this conversation is taking or ever took place. Harry was never here, and I’ve been in my room the entire night. You were sleeping right here without interruption unless anyone sees you tonight, in which case you were looking for artifacts to add to your pile of junk. Understood?”

Kreacher mumbled a response as he stalked away; Harry didn’t care enough to listen, and Sirius seemed satisfied with whatever he’d said. When the pitter-patter of feet dissolved into the nooks and crannies of the manor and the house elf's voice no longer reached their ears, Sirius closed the door of Kreacher’s den, then the door leading out of the kitchen for good measure. Harry collapsed on the floor with his back against the pantry door; after Sirius had finished casting an Imperturbable Charm on the entryway, he sat next to his godson and looked at him with concern.

“All right, now we’ve got that out of the way - tell me everything.”

“Even what you already know?”

“I want to hear it all again. From the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”

“Erm… define beginning.”

Sirius made an exasperated face, attempting to kid. “When did your - service to the Dark Lord we’ll say - begin?”

“First of September, I think.”

“Fine, then start there. Don’t skimp on details - we’ve got all night, and the morning if need be.”

And so Harry began. He started with the first moment he laid eyes on Nico di Angelo, back in King’s Cross, when he’d attempted to eavesdrop on Mad-Eye’s instructions. He went through everything, every thought or suspicion he could ever remember having about di Angelo, the hours in the library searching for Lares, the wandless magic fight in the hallway, planning the boggart attack with Malfoy and overhearing Percy talk about Nico’s father in the hospital wing, discovering and fighting against the horcruxes, the DA meeting with Percy, seeing Nico’s self-harm problem and blackmailing him with it, and, finally, the run-in with Malfoy that seemed to make it all make sense.

As he laid it all out for Sirius, he recalled more and more leaps, more and more assumptions, more and more prejudices that led him off-track. Worse, he started to realize Nico’s cry for help near the end. How many times had he revealed his vulnerability to Harry, knowing full-well he’d never catch on?

 

> “I'm dangerous; I'm my own agent, I always have been. Sometimes... sometimes that makes me do stuff no hero would do.”
> 
> “Like what?”
> 
> “Like kill my own sister.”

 

> “Who are you?”  
> 
> 
> “A monster.”

 

> “Do I look like a stranger to death, Potter?”

 

“It was all there,” Harry whispered to Sirius, his cheeks wet with hot tears, throat scratchy from talking for so long, and lip bloody from biting it so often. “It was all there, and I  _ knew  _ something was up, I  _ knew  _ it was wrong to blackmail him, even before Carrow told me it was an illness… but I kept telling myself it was for the greater good…”

“A lot of powerful wizards have gotten themselves in trouble by repeating that phrase in their heads,” Sirius told him. “Look… I’m not going to sit here and say it’s not your fault, or that you shouldn’t blame yourself, or that your actions were anything but the result of prejudice and a justification of emotions. You were wrong, and you deserve to feel like this, you know that. I love you like I know James would’ve - did, even - but that’s a long way from excusing emotional abuse, even if you didn’t realize at the time that’s what you were doing.”

“I know…” Harry convulsed forward in a heaving sob; he felt Sirius’s hand on his back, not trying to soothe him, but just reminding him he was there. It helped a little, knowing his godfather didn’t hate him for what he did... but it didn't soothe him much.

“Harry.” Sirius’s voice was stern but kind… fatherly, in a way. “You need to pull yourself together and look at me.”

Harry forced himself to look up, but he couldn’t stop shaking. “I - I thought you - ”

“I’m here to help you. I listened, you had your time to cry, and now you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and look at the facts.”

“The facts?”

“You fucked up, to use your mother’s favorite muggle phrase. I get that. And you feel horrible, I get that too. But you’re not a servant of Voldemort; you can’t blame your actions on some circumstances you didn’t even know about. You can’t use Riddle as a scapegoat.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

“Yes, it is. Look at me, Harry. Do you think I didn’t feel like this when I found out Wormtail sold out your parents? When I saw myself put away for a murder I never committed? You think I didn’t want to convince myself it was all part of some big plot that Wormtail manipulated me into, that if I had just been a little smarter, none of it would’ve happened? It’s easy to assign blame for tragedies, even to assign it to yourself. But life isn’t that simple - there’s not one cause for every effect. Pretending otherwise doesn’t help things.”

Harry shook his head and stared back down at the floor. Sirius sighed, then continued. “Yes, you did some bad things, a lot of which played right into Voldemort’s and Hecate’s hands. I’m not denying nor excusing that. But, you didn’t single-handedly cause any of this. Look at the facts, Harry, without  _ trying _ to assign blame to yourself.

“Yes, you interfered with the horcrux hunt. You were horrible at actually stopping the demigods - so was Tonks, and the Order itself. I don’t think we did anything worse than annoy them; it’s the difficulty of their mission that’s keeping Riddle alive, not you. As for Hecate, she’s a goddess who could manipulate a  _ god.  _ From what you heard from Annabeth, she’s been planning this a while, long before you met a single half-blood. If she wanted Persephone dead, if she wanted Hades on the warpath, if she wanted the apocalypse - she’d’ve done it with or without your help.

“And Nico? Harry… I don’t have much experience with self-harm or anything comparable, but I know enough to know that it’s not something that happens in a matter of days or weeks. Even if he’d never cut himself until he met you, the issues were already there, and he didn’t know how to cope. Your blackmail might’ve made it more probable that he’d leave, or made him do so sooner, but I doubt he’d be able to handle this pressure long enough to resist running away. He might've used you as an excuse, but he would’ve found another. And, with Hecate needing him to be her prisoner, there’s no way he would’ve gotten through this quest without somehow disappearing.”

Harry glanced back up, but he still couldn’t get himself to speak. Sirius held his gaze a long time, but couldn’t convince him to talk.

“Fine, I’ll talk  _ at _ you some more,” Sirius tried to joke again, but his voice weighed heavy. “My point is, sitting here and crying about how you were some pawn won’t solve anything. You messed up, so you need to get up and  _ fix things _ . I never got that chance, and I can tell you from experience that the only thing worse than messing up is watching all the consequences of the damage you played a role in creating and realizing now you can do nothing.”

“But…” Harry took a deep breath and forced his brain to work. “But, Sirius, I tried to help things this fall and look what happened. The only heroic thing I ever did was as a baby - even last June, all I did was shout one spell and run to a portkey.”

“You make it sound much easier than it actually was,” Sirius remarked. “Not too many would’ve been able to get out of there alive.”

“That’s my point!” Harry cried. “I’m just lucky; I’ve always been lucky. But that’s far from being a hero able to stop the apocalypse!”

“You know what every hero has in common?” Sirius questioned him. “They  _ did  _ something. No one remembers Dumbledore for the years he sat back, hoping Grindelwald would decline in power on his own; they remember him for convincing himself to act after all that nothing and saving a lot of lives. If you want to make things right, you’re not going to get another opportunity, regardless of what happens in the next nine days.”

Harry knew Sirius was right, but the thought of risking playing into Hecate’s hands again scared him too much. “What if I’m wrong again?" He asked, "What if I lose? What if I fail?”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Tell yourself the world rests on your shoulders.”

“Doesn’t it, though? At the end of the day… hasn’t it always been me against Voldemort?”

Sirius let out a harsh laugh. “No, Harry. And it never was.”

When Sirius saw the shock on Harry’s face, he laughed again, this time, more bitter. “I told him this would happen, you know. I might’ve gotten my way too... if it weren’t for that sniveling coward I once considered my friend.”

Harry knit his eyebrows in confusion. “What does Wormtail have to do with any of this?”

Another bitter laugh. “Everything, because he wrecks every life he sets his squinty little eyes on. I was there... when Hagrid found you and took you to your Aunt and Uncle’s.”

“You wanted to take me,” Harry said, remembering the conversation he’d overheard in the Three Broomsticks back in his third year. “I remember Hagrid talking - he said you argued with him, you wanted to take me with you instead of following Dumbledore’s orders.”

“Yeah,” Sirius muttered, more to himself than to Harry. “I knew Wormtail was the Secret Keeper, and I was so obsessed with finding him that I let Hagrid take you. Wasn’t right - I still regret it - but, I told myself I’d get Wormtail quick and come back for you, Dumbledore’s orders or not. I should’ve realized Wormtail wouldn’t let me expose him - horrible dueler, but an  _ excellent  _ actor. Won an  _ award  _ for it, you know.”

“But, what he have to do with Voldemort and me? I mean… besides the obvious.”

“Not him, not really… my issue’s always been with Dumbledore. With what he put you through. I knew Lily, I heard stories about Petunia, I knew what those muggles would do to you - and I daresay Dumbledore did too. He just didn’t care.”

On any other day, a blow like that would cripple Harry, even if Dumbledore hadn’t talked to him since his trial at the Ministry that summer. But with everything else, it faded into the background. All Harry saw was the bitter guilt in his godfather’s eyes, for “letting” the Dursleys torment him in his youth. For choosing Pettigrew over Harry.

“I’m fine, Sirius,” Harry assured him. “I’ve got bigger problems than a painful childhood.”

“I wish…” Sirius sighed. “But that’s where you’re wrong. I know you well enough to know how you look at the world: you look at everything through the lens of that scar. You spent eleven years thinking you were dirt, then in an afternoon the world worships you for what you can’t even remember? You’ve spent the last five years doing everything in your power to prove you’re Harry Potter when you should’ve just been a kid. You shouldn’t have to be ‘the boy who lived’, you should be  _ Harry _ . If I’d gotten it my way, no one would’ve ever found out who Voldemort killed that Halloween, or how - or who - defeated him. You would’ve had as much of a chance as anyone in your generation to get that brand name.”

Harry was so taken aback he couldn’t process half of what Sirius said. “I… but… you would’ve lied to me? About my parents?”

“Not lied, but… omitted parts, until you were old enough to understand what happened and could choose for yourself whether to let the world know. Or, at least until last June, when you  _ had _ to know, since Voldemort was going to come after you. I just… think Dumbledore is out of line here. I don’t know exactly what he thinks he'll get out of this, but I do know he’s using you as a weapon of a sort. And that’s not fair to you; I know I compare you to your father all the time, but you’re  _ not _ James. I only talk about him so much because no one else seems to - why did it take a full  _ year _ for anyone to bother to show you what they looked like? I know Dumbledore’s on our side, and I know he’s our best shot at defeating Voldemort, and I’d rather be his ally than anyone else’s… but children have no place in war.”

They sat like that for a long time, Sirius Black and his godson, reflecting on what he’d always been to afraid to say and what Harry always needed to hear. The entire night, Sirius had given him a million mixed messages: you deserve to be sad, you need to stop crying; you need to fix things, you shouldn’t be on the front lines. But, for the first time in his  _ life _ , Harry felt like someone had spoken to him like a person - not Harry Potter, but a human being.

Sitting there, Harry made a decision. He wouldn’t let himself be manipulated anymore - not by Hecate, not by Voldemort, not by the Ministry or Umbridge or even Dumbledore. He’d fight Voldemort because he wanted to, not because someone else did. He’d do what the world required of him because of his scar, but he would pick and choose his battles instead of assuming every single one was his because of his unfortunate name. If he heard about a Death Eater plot, he’d tell Sirius and trust the Order, then force himself to forget about it. He’d be a kid in a war, and be smart about it, but he wouldn’t make himself a hero anymore. He’d let Ron deal with Annabeth Chase; Harry would focus on cleaning up the mess he made with Nico. And, every time that little voice in his head told him that he was solely responsible for everything dark wizard, he’d tell it no. For Sirius.

Because, for the first time in his entire life, Harry finally understood the definition of unconditional love.

“Sirius?” Harry asked, his voice cracking from the weight of his own thoughts. “I think I’d have liked to have been your son.”

Sirius closed his eyes and leaned against the pantry door. Harry watched as the rising sun’s rays danced on his forehead, far too lined for a man in his thirties. Again, silence filled the room for intense minutes, until Sirius did something he never had. He put his arm around Harry’s back, leaned over, and kissed the top of his head.

“If you and I survive until next year… maybe we can see what it takes to make that happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... that was satisfying. 
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: mother’s favorite muggle phrase  
> SARA: headcannon accepted  
> LISSY: Lily cursed like a pirate and no one can tell me otherwise.  
> GIULIA: Ofc  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	31. Do the Stabby-Stabby and the Burny-Burny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the help of the followers of Hecate, Percy and Annabeth continue their horcrux hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 2800
> 
> Whaaaat? I'm posting in the MORNING for a change???
> 
> Letting you know - 31 & 32 will be edited by Sara only because Giulia is away on vacation for the next 14 days without Internet. Never fear, though, she shall return for 33!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

 

The first ten minutes after Sirius voiced his decision to look into adoption, Harry could do nothing but sit there, his godfather’s arms on his back, and process the meaning of those words.

_ If you and I survive until next year… maybe we can see what it takes to make that happen. _

It wasn’t happiness Harry felt, nor excitement nor even bliss. He’d felt all that before. This wasn’t the kind of feeling that made him laugh or smile or make his insides squirm. It wasn’t the kind of thing Harry could name - English hadn’t yet invented the language necessary to do so - but it was the kind of thing that made him so overcome with emotion his brain elected to remove all feelings from his body, leaving him with a blank and buffering mind that could only focus on the cause of the circle spinning into infinity.

_ If you and I survive until next year… maybe we can see what it takes to make that happen. _

It wasn’t like the end of Harry’s third year when he’d just met Sirius; this wasn’t a stranger but friend of his dad’s who’d offered to take him away from the Dursleys. No, this was Sirius Black, the closest thing Harry  _ had _ to a father, discussing a near future in which he’d be free of the Ministry’s shackles and able to call Harry his son. His  _ son. _ A near future where the Order didn’t spend every day in the Black Manor, a future where the place would be livable and pleasant and a place Harry would one day consider home. 

It was an opportunity for summer to be more than waiting for Hogwarts, more than reflecting on whatever Dark Magic had interrupted final exams that school year, more than running from Dudley and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. A near future where Lord Voldemort didn’t lurk behind every corner, where living past twenty wasn’t just guaranteed but an exciting prospect. A future where Harry wasn’t an orphan. A future where that long ago Halloween no longer defined every waking moment of Harry’s life.

_ If you and I survive until next year… maybe we can see what it takes to make that happen. _

A future, in short, that Harry had never dared to imagine. And now, in twenty words, that future wasn’t just a dream, but a prospect. A goal. Something to work towards. Something to ponder and plan for and maybe even  _ expect _ .

_ If you and I survive until next year… maybe we can see what it takes to make that happen. _

There was something almost poetic; how the worst night of Harry’s life gave way to the best morning of his existence. 

But, before any of that happened, Harry had to do his part to make sure the world got through the next nine days unscathed. And that meant getting to work doing what Nico could no longer - hunting horcruxes.

“Sirius - could you help me figure out what the rest of the horcruxes are?”

“I can try, but I don’t know Voldemort’s mind the way Dumbledore seems to, or the demigods.”

“Percy and Annabeth said they figured out a few horcruxes, from Dumbledore, but they don’t know all seven.”

“All right… so, what do they have so far?”

Harry thought back to the briefing the night before - he’d been so focused on guilt he’d barely heard what the demigods were telling them.

“Um… Riddle had a diary that’s already taken care of, they have a ring and Hufflepuff’s cup, there’s this locket - ”

“Locket?”

“Um…” 

“Harry - do you remember at the beginning of the summer, that locket inside the cabinet we couldn’t open?”

“You think that’s it?”

“Regulus joined the Death Eaters the second he could. There’s a good chance his master gave him a horcrux to hide here.”

Harry almost hit himself on the head from his own stupidity. “Where is it?”

Sirius grimaced. “We threw it out, remember? Unless Kreacher’s hoarding did us a favor for once - ”

Sirius and Harry exchanged a nervous look, then Harry walked back to the dingy door that opened to Kreacher’s den. He fumbled around in the cramped space, feeling Sirius’s eyes on his back until he reached behind he boiler and - ”

“I think I found something!” Harry yelled towards Sirius. “Feels like it could be the cabinet - but it’s stuck!”

Sirius joined Harry at Kreacher’s Den and helped him to tug on the object. Ten minutes later, sweating and frustrated, the piece of furniture loosened, so sudden Harry ended up falling on his rear. Sirius stepping in closer and pulled, grunting from the effort, until he removed…

The cabinet.

“Yes!” Harry even pumped his fist in the air; it felt like the first victory he’d experienced in  _ months.  _ “Sirius, I’ve got to get this to Percy and Annabeth. Even if we couldn’t open it, they’ll know how to. Or Hermione, now that she’s able to use magic again.”

Sirius nodded and grinned at Harry, breathing too hard to say a word. Harry grinned back, threw his arms around his godfather in a quick embrace, then helped him to carry the cabinet back to the fireplace in the living room - big enough to fit it, thank… gods? 

_ That feels weird.  _

Harry dismissed the odd thought and pushed the piece of furniture into the emerald flames. “I’ll see you soon, Sirius. Thank you.”

“Good luck, Harry. I’ll see you before the thirty-first.” 

“Hogwarts - Room of Requirement - the Horcrux Room!” Harry shouted. The area where Percy and Annabeth kept the horcruxes became the agreed-on meeting spot for everyone involved the night before. Per usual for the room, a floo-powder connected fireplace popped up as soon as they needed it, undetectable from Umbridge’s office, or the ministry.

Harry appeared in the room, somewhat familiar from Annabeth’s showing him around after the briefing the night before. Even at half-past six in the morning, everyone was awake, alert, and working. Percy and Ron stood over a piece of parchment, a list of the horcruxes and their status. Hufflepuff’s cup and Marvolo’s ring sat in pieces around their feet, the Sword of Gryffindor still in Ron’s hand. Hermione and Annabeth sat at a table nearby, with a stack of books beside them, no doubt researching various objects that might qualify as a horcrux. Blaise and Hestia lay on the ground in another corner, huddled around the Marauder’s Map that Ron had taken from Harry’s trunk the night before, calling out various possible hiding spots for horcruxes.

“Guys!” Harry called, stepping out of the fireplace.

“Harry!” Ron greeted him. “Where you been, mate?”

“I found the locket,” Harry said, deciding to keep his conversation with Sirius to himself. It was too loaded for him to talk about yet, or even to think about.

Lucky for him, no one seemed to care enough to pry. “What?!” Annabeth looked beside herself with happiness. “How?!”

“I remembered seeing a locket at my godfather’s place this past summer,” Harry explained/lied, “It was trapped in this cabinet - none of us could open it. His family was affiliated with Riddle before they died, so I figured it might be a possible hiding spot for the horcrux. And I think I was right.”

Ron and Hermione both gasped at their lack of recollection. “Of course!” Hermione cried.

“Didn’t we throw that out, though?” Ron asked.

“Kreacher,” Harry replied. 

Blaise helped Harry to carry the cabinet to the center of the room. Annabeth looked through the glass at the necklace, inspecting it. “That’s it,” Annabeth announced, though her voice sounded far more grave than Harry expected. “Issue is, how do we get it out?”

Hermione tried a spell, but nothing happened. All the wizards joined her, shouting various incantations to no avail. To his left, Harry heard Percy ask Annabeth, “Is the cabinet important at all?”

“No,” Annabeth told him but sounded wary. “Why - ”

She got her answer. Percy darted to the side of the cabinet not being pelted with spells and uncapped then swung his sword at the top. All the wizards stopped firing at once, shocked at such a rash decision. But, it paid off - the top of the cabinet fell to the ground, the glass shattered, and the locket sat there, ready for the taking. Everyone stared at Percy in utter shock as he strut around the front and grabbed the necklace.

“What?” he questioned, holding the locket by his right pointer-finger, its charm dangling and swishing like a pendulum in the air. “Sword beats wands. You said it wasn’t important.”

Annabeth walked over to Percy, in a daze; he looked afraid she’d smack him like the night before. Instead, she grabbed him and kissed him full on the mouth - PDA style. When they parted long after the awkwardness had set into the air, she smiled at him, looking at him like he was her sun, moon, and stars. 

“You, Perseus Jackson, are incredible.”

Percy gave a breathy laugh and grinned back. Harry spent so long watching this scene play out, he didn’t notice Ron walking up to him until he tapped him on the shoulders. He met Harry’s eye and held out the Sword of Gryffindor.

“No,” Harry declined. “You do it.”

“You found the locket,” Ron protested.

“It’s your mission,” Harry countered. “We wouldn’t be helping the demigods if you hadn’t convinced us to. I wouldn’t’ve found the locket. That’s your sword; you’re leading this.”

Ron looked so taken aback he lost the ability to speak. But, he nodded and motioned for Percy to hold the locket out to him. Percy did so, and Ron swung. Everyone but Harry covered their ears; when the blade made contact, a deafening screech of pain erupted from the charm. In a moment, it stopped, and the broken locket fell from its chain and hit the floor with a metallic clang.

“Now what?” Blaise asked, glancing at the others in turn.

“We have three horcruxes left to find,” Hestia answered him. “The snake - Nagini, the one somewhere in the Room of Requirement, and whatever the last one is.”

“The snake?” Harry asked. 

“We figured that out while you were gone,” Blaise answered, the ‘we’ referring to himself and Hestia. “He always keeps that snake nearby, and Hestia’s aunt and uncle mentioned Riddle calling the snake ‘blessed’ the summer after her first year. They were Death Eaters. Put two and two together, and…”

“Wait…” Hermione grabbed the list of horcruxes from the table Percy left it and scanned the names. “I think I know what the Room of Requirement horcrux is.”

“Well, what is it, then?” Hestia pressed.

“Riddle took Hufflepuff’s cup, and Slytherin’s locket. You said the Gaunts called that Slytherin’s artifact, right?” Annabeth nodded. “He must’ve wanted one object from each of the Hogwarts founders.”

“You’re right!” Annabeth agreed. “ _ Di immortalis  _ I’m stupid! Riddle was an orphan when Dumbledore invited him to Hogwarts; he was so happy to find a place where he wasn’t a freak - Riddle must’ve had some connection to this place, one he’d reflect in his horcruxes. It’s Ravenclaw’s diadem! There’s a statue of her wearing it in my common room - that’s got to be it!”

“And he’d put it in the castle,” Hermione continued, “to connect himself even more here. Hogwarts is famous for being one of the safest places in the Wizarding World, and he must’ve learned about the Room of Requirement during his time here!”

“He’s so arrogant, he’d think no one else ever discovered this room!” Annabeth finished, excited and gleeful for the first time Harry could remember. “You’re right Hermione, this  _ has  _ to be it! The diadem in the room where everything is hidden!”

“Wow,” Percy breathed, staring in awe at Annabeth and Hermione work. “This really does go faster with wizards’ help.”

“All right, Hermione, choose your two companions,” Annabeth instructed. “You discovered where the horcrux is, which makes this your mission.”

“Shouldn’t you come with me?” Hermione asked. “You helped.”

“With knowledge I gained weeks ago,” Annabeth reminded her, “I wasn’t smart enough to realize the truth; I don’t get to lead. Simple as that.”

“All right…” Hermione glanced around the room at all the faces, nervous. 

“Pick people who you think will be helpful,” Percy advised her, “Not just people you’re friends with. Not that you can’t choose someone you know well - but… you know what I mean.”

“Harry,” Hermione decided, “You know the Room of Requirement better than I do. And… Annabeth, if you’ll come, you know what the diadem looks like the best.”

“Sounds good.” Harry smiled at his friend, to ease her nerves. 

“Agreed,” Annabeth seconded. “We’ll be back soon - Blaise, Hestia, see if you can figure out where Nico might’ve run off to while we’re gone. Will and Lou Ellen IMed me a few hours ago; they haven’t had much luck so far. Percy, Ron? See if you can figure out the final horcrux, or at least how we’d get Nagini.”

“Got it,” Percy said. “Good luck.”

**____________________HERMIONE____________________**

 

Hermione was thankful for Harry’s hand squeezing her own outside the Room of Requirement. His presence calmed her down, which helped her think; it was one thing to sit in base, as the muggle saying went, and research possible ways to thwart Riddle and Hecate. It was another to lead a side-mission to a horcrux. Those things scared her to death - their shrieks as though they were alive, all the defenses Percy and Annabeth described. Slytherin’s locket had been unguarded, which surprised her, but she didn’t count on her luck holding out. Something felt off about the locket’s hiding spot, though Hermione couldn’t figure out what bothered her about it. Whether the locket had something strange surrounding it or not, she knew it was nothing more than an outlier. The diadem would not be.

“I need the room where everything is hidden,” Hermione said to the wall in front of her. The door shimmered into focus and stood ready to be entered.

“Let’s go,” Harry urged her after a moment of staring at the ominous entrance. “Hermione - ”

“Going,” Hermione responded, voice shaky. She grabbed at the doorknob, twisted, and pushed, revealing what lay beyond it.

The cavern - there was no other word for it - that lay beyond the door went miles in every direction. Every inch of the place contained mountains of knick knacks, books, jewels, junk, and any other object imaginable.

“ _ Accio  _ diadem!” Hermione shouted, but nothing happened.

“The room’s guarded against spells like that,” Harry warned. “We’ll just have to search.” 

Hermione shook her head. “That’ll take weeks; do you see the size of this place? We need a way to track it… a way Riddle wouldn't guard against. Annabeth is there - ”

“No,” Annabeth replied, cutting her off. “The only godly way to track this would be through nature magic, and all that’ll say is that it’s somewhere at Hogwarts. Besides, Hogwarts itself can't be seen through our powers - Grover tried a few weeks ago, and couldn't see the diadem. No, we need a magical way to get the horcrux. And you two are the experts on that.”

Hermione stood in thought, reflecting on everything she’d ever read or learned about the Wizarding World. There had to be  _ something… _

“We can't find it,” Hermione decided, “So we’ll have to destroy it without knowing where it is.”

“What, like, set fire to the room?” Harry asked.

Annabeth nodded. “That should work, provided we know a spell that can destroy horcruxes. Not many can - they have to be destroyed to the point where there’s no way to recover.”

“Fiendfyre,” Hermione announced. “It’ll work - but we have to run out of here as soon as it’s cast. I don't have the skill to control the fire, and if it touches you, you're dead. It’s potent dark magic - I don't know anyone who’s ever talked about it beyond the theoretical.”

“Cast and run,” Harry recapped. “Got it.”

Annabeth opened the door back into Hogwarts for a quick escape. Hermione and Harry stood side to side, five feet from the escape route. 

“Start forward, move out. We’ll make a crescent shape with the curse, then bolt.” Hermione nodded at Harry’s instructions. “On the count of three,” he said.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“ _ FIENDFYRE _ !”

Orange flames, so hot they tinged the air red, burst from the tips of her and Harry’s wands. The licks of fire morphed into winged beasts, flying and spreading the monstrous curse in every direction. Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and, together, they ran out the door. Annabeth slammed the door shut just as a familiar shriek filled the cavern. The three exchanged glances and let out a collective, relieved laugh.

“Two left,” Annabeth noted.

“Then Riddle’s mortal,” Hermione finished, “and we can start to clean up this mess.”

“Yeah…” Harry said, his voice far away. “Then Riddle’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: I wouldn’t’ve found the locket  
> SARA: CONTRACTIONS THAT ARE TECHNICALLY RIGHT  
> LISSY: YES - PLUS THEY SOUND MORE CONVERSATION-Y  
> SARA: 10/10
> 
> AND ALSO (bc I love this one too)
> 
> STORY: “FIENDFYRE!”  
> SARA: BURN THIS MOFO D O W N  
> LISSY: http://chezapocalypse.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/burning-room-community.gif  
> SARA: OMG  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/)  
>  
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	32. The Badass di Angelo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Death (mentioned-only, not [a] main character[s])  
> Word Count: 2670  
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

 ****Fa la ninna, fa la nanna **[Go to sleep, go to sleepy]**  
Nella braccia della mamma     **[In the arms of your mother]**  
Fa la ninna bel bambin,  **[Go to sleep, lovely child,]**  
Fa la nanna bambin bel,   **[Go to sleepy, child so lovely]**  
Fa la ninna, fa la nanna **[Go to sleep, go to sleepy]**  
Nella braccia della mamma.   **[In the arms of your mother]**

  

> Nico woke to the sounds of silence. He looked around his room; Bianca’s bed was already made. Nico stared in surprise; he tended to wake hours before his sister.
> 
> So, curious and looking for an answer, he pulled the sheets from his body and slid off his own bed. He relished in the soft thump his bare feet made as they hit the wooden floor; it always signaled his arrival to Bianca every morning. A soft thump meant Nico di Angelo was awake.
> 
> Though the floor felt cold on the soles of his feet, Nico continued his trek down the hall, the pitter-patter bouncing off the walls. Bianca wasn't in the bathroom or the library or the kitchen. So, he opened the final door in the hallway and walked up the stairs.
> 
> At the sound of Nico’s feet, Mamma turned and smiled. “Buon giorno, Nico,” she cooed in that melodic voice. She pushed her chair from her worktable and went to him; she put her hands under his arms and lifted him into the air with an exaggerated grunt. “Such a big boy,” she teased, switching to English. She often did that, so he’d know both her language and the language of his and Bianca’s father - the American. “If you grow anymore, I might have to pile bricks on your head, _mio piccolo angelo. **[my little angel]**_ ”
> 
> Nico giggled at the tease; it turned to laughter when she tickled his stomach. She smiled at him, waiting for him to speak; he knew she expected English, so he thought long and hard about what to say. “Where are Bianca?” he asked, quite pleased with himself.
> 
> “Where _is_ , Nico,” Mamma corrected. “Ma altrimenti perfetto **.** ** _[But perfect otherwise.]_** ” He beamed at the praise, even if it wasn’t perfect. He understood English fluently, but always had trouble speaking it; this time, though, he knew he got it almost right. “Bianca left with Nonno for Sunday mass.”
> 
> “Possiamo andare anche noi, mamma?!  _ **[Can we go too, Mommy?!]** _ ” Nico asked, so excited he forgot to speak English.
> 
> “I was waiting for you to wake up, and I just finished the last one. Let me clean the workshop, and we’ll join them.”
> 
> Mamma put him back down on the floor and shuffled through her papers and journal. Nico loved staring at the strange letters of her writings; the letters of his own alphabet but arranged in a different way than either Italian or English. He would watch her for hours as she stared at the strange words, brows furrows and lip bit in concentration, moving her pen as she turned the gibberish to Italian to English to gibberish again, then typed the final product on the special typewriter he wasn’t allowed to touch.
> 
> “A game,” Mamma always said about her pastime. “A puzzle.”
> 
> She put the puzzles she’d finished and the one she was working on in the closet next to her table, opening and closing the three different locks she changed at least once a week. Then, she took the notes and the cardboard she wrote on and put it on her second table, the one covered in tin foil. She lit a match and set it all on fire, smiling at Nico’s wonderment at the orange flames. It died down after a few seconds, and she wrapped the ashes into a tight ball the size of her fist, the black hidden in the center. She put it in her pocket to dispose of later; she never liked throwing her work out near the house.
> 
> “Daddy is… _no_ … is Daddy coming…” He couldn’t remember the English word for “tonight,” so he finished with, “later?”
> 
> Mamma nodded and smiled, as Nico knew she would. Papà always came when she finished her puzzles - Bianca said that’s how they met; Papà knew the people who got the puzzles and offered to take them so a young woman wouldn’t have to. Neither Bianca nor he knew why Papà cared because Mamma loved taking them on trips.
> 
> “Papà and I have a surprise for you if you promise not to tell Nonno.” Nico nodded his head as fast as he could. Mamma sunk down to his level and gave a soft but somewhat sad smile. “He’s taking us home to America with him - for a little while.”
> 
> “ _Perché? **[Why?]** _ ”
> 
> “He wants his children…  a little closer right now.”
> 
> “ _E Nonno? **[And Grandpa?]** ” _
> 
> “Nonno wants Papà to take a few vows with me first, and he doesn’t want to leave  _la tomba della Nonna. **[Grandma’s grave]**_   But, we’ll be back so soon you won’t have time to miss him.”

 

The old villa was struck by lightning in 1934, according to an old newspaper Nico dug up. It burned to the ground with Nonno inside. Based on the new information, Nonno was killed the same day as Mamma… Zeus’s vengeance at his newfound niece and nephew.

After figuring out his childhood home had long since disappeared, Nico had gone to the old church to see it too replaced; whether it was just too old, or Zeus zapped it, or it was a result of his mom’s “devil incarnate” (which Nico learned in the same newspaper was Mussolini), it was gone. Mamma had tutored him and Bianca, so he had no other nostalgic places but one -

The site of _la tomba della Nonna. **[Grandma’s grave]**_

There, he arrived to find Nonno’s name and date of death on the same tombstone as Nonna’s. Beside that, sat the name and tombstone of Maria di Angelo, her date of death identical to Nonno’s. On the same tombstone, below her name, sat Bianca’s; December 19th, but 1934 to match the others. Either way, the math worked - she would’ve been 12 if she’d died in 1934. They spent less than a year together between leaving the Lotus and entering Camp Half-Blood.

Standing on the grassy Earth above what remained of his family, Nico felt a surge of pain and grief rivaling that of when Percy first told him Bianca wasn’t coming back. He’d forced himself not to return home for the first forty-eight hours, in case Hades went looking for him. He only wanted to go back to see what happened to Nonno… it had never been about mourning…

But, now, the emotions hit him like a Colchis Bull. He dropped to his knees and palms on the soft dirt and did his best to keep his wail of anguish a few decibels down. He heaved, and he cried, and he thought about every face in those names he saw…

His mother. Using her mind and abilities to help fight a war between demigods. Disowned by her own father because she had children out of wedlock. Moved from her country to protect her children from the gods. Dead because she tried everything in her power to keep her children with their mother.

Dead because she loved Nico.

His grandfather. Taking his grandchildren to church every week to try and teach them the values he thought his daughter lost. Opposed to a god because he never stepped up and married the mother of his children. Torn from his daughter because he didn’t have the context. Dead because he refused to appease a man he thought was a scoundrel.

Dead because he loved Nico.

His sister. Torn from her parents and forced into a guardian role far sooner than she was ready. Loving him despite his crush on Matt, contradicting everything she learned in church. Telling him over and over that she was working through her prejudice and that everything would go back to before. Joining the Hunters to force her strict Catholic values to bend a little.

Dead because she loved Nico.

Curled in fetal position over his mother and sister’s grave, Nico sobbed and did something he’d told himself was too pathetic.

He sang himself his mother’s lullaby.

“Fa la ninna… fa la nanna… nella braccia… della mamma…     **[Go to sleep… go to sleepy… in the arms… of your mother…**  
fa la ninna… bel bambin… fa la nanna… bambin bel…              **go to sleep… lovely child… **go to sleepy…** child **so lovely…****  
 fa la ninna… fa la nanna… nella braccia… nella…                   **go to sleep… go to sleepy… in the arms… in the…**  
bra - bracia… d - della… mamma…” **a - arms… of - of your… mother…”]**

He choked into silent tears at the final line, shaking and gasping with his eyes squeezed as he saw his mother in his mind’s eye. As he sat there and he cried, Nico started to wonder why he’d even taken this quest to begin with. To appease his father? That seemed too small a price for all the grief it gave him. 

 

> Nico was sitting on his old bed, but on the opposite bed wasn’t his old roommate Matt, but a young looking boy with brown hair and eyes. He was a little pale like Nico, and long and lanky like he’d just had a growth spurt.
> 
> “I can help you,” the boy said. “I can make you the person you always wanted.”
> 
> Nico looked around the room, then back at the boy. It was amazing, everything looked exactly the same. “I miss this place,” Nico commented.
> 
> “I can help you,” the boy repeated, unfazed despite the fact that Nico had ignored him.  He walked over to the son of Hades, looking him straight in the eye. “Trust me.”
> 
> “I don’t know you,” Nico replied. “How can I trust you?”
> 
> “Because I can help you,” the boy repeated. “Don’t you want to be here again? To feel the way you did when your sister was still alive?”
> 
> “Bianca?” Nico asked, surprised. “How do you know about her?”
> 
> “Because I am you, stupid. It's your dream, your head. Of course I know about your sister, what do you think of me?” Nico was so caught off guard that he didn’t respond. The boy didn’t seem to care, instead he continued speaking. “I can make you the most powerful demigod ever. With my help, you’ll finish your quest, make your father proud, and achieve everything you ever wanted. All you need to do is trust me.”

 

“How?!” Nico screamed, no longer caring if anyone heard him. No one was around. “How, Teddy?! I need them back! I need another chance! I need another life! How?!”

A warm hand fell on Nico’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, Nico. I’m sorry you feel this much grief over your family.”

“How?” Nico sobbed again. “How? How? How? How…”

His body shook with the force of his tears as Teddy wrapped his arms around Nico’s neck in a comforting hug. They sat there for an indefinite moment - maybe seconds, maybe hours - until Nico got himself under control, turned, and looked Teddy in the eye.

“You need to go back to Hogwarts,” Teddy said.

“No,” Nico declared, “I’m never going back there.”

“Nico - you don’t understand. Hades is on the warpath; he thinks Hecate stole you from him - ”

“Let him. Let him wonder what I’m doing for a change. Let him remember what it’s like to not have his own personal pawn on standby.”

“Nico, he’s threatening - ”

“HOW?!” Nico screamed, no longer in the mood to argue. “Tell me now, Teddy, or I’m leaving you too.”

Teddy was silent for a long moment. “The Artifacts of Thanatos. Hecate sent me to aid you, and in return, I’d give you the artifacts.”

“That’s just a myth,” Nico said. “Propaganda to scare the Giants to surrender during the First Giant War.”

“No,” Teddy said. “Hades held onto them in secret until he went paranoid, thinking others would steal them and try to dethrone him. He gave them to Persephone, who presented them to three brothers passing by an entrance to the Underworld. They - the Percival Brothers - discovered that they could yield them, but since they were followers of Hecate, the real power of the objects was impossible to use. Like Hades and Persephone had hoped, the new artifacts became a Wizarding legend - the Deathly Hallows - and famous for their reduced qualities.”

“The Robes - or the Cloak of Invisibility - is just a long-lasting unit of invisibility, instead of having the power to shield oneself from all magic and any gods. The Staff - or the Elder Wand - is a tool to help win duels, instead of a weapon with the power to enact and speed up up the fading process and kill immortals, or heal and bring crippled immortals back to life. The Orb - or the Resurrection Stone - just brings shadows of a dead loved one back to speak, instead of - ”

“Locating a loved one reborn, and giving them back memories of a particular past life for a temporary or permanent period of time,” Nico finished, his voice weak. “And Hecate was going to give them to me?”

“Yes,” Teddy replied. “Things are a little more complicated than I first said back in the beginning of September; I want to explain it to you all now since things are going so awry. She does too - Hecate, I mean. She asked me to get you so she could explain in person. She still wants to give them to you… but…”

“What? Tell me.”

“Hades is threatening genocide on the Wizarding World. Like I said, he thinks she stole you against your will. And… well, Hecate will explain if you choose to speak with her. He’s not going to back down, and he won’t listen to reason. She hopes that maybe…”

Teddy didn’t have to finish his thought. “Maybe if I join her and gather the Hallows, Hades will stand down. As a child of Hades, I can wield them as he can - he won’t stand a chance.”

Even as Nico said it, the unspoken technicality in the plan hung in the air: If you join Hecate, you’re a traitor to Hades.

_Too bad he knew how to save my family, and kept me from them for six years._

“I renounce him,” Nico vowed. “I renounce Hades, Lord of the Dead, as my father. I accept Hecate’s patronage, and her mission, and I will fight beside her for as long as she lets me.”

Teddy looked at his sudden declaration with shock. “Then, I’ll take you to her. Your vow means nothing until she tells you everything and offers you the position she has in mind. If you accept it, and she blesses your patronage, that’s it.”

“All right.”

“You can’t go back now.”

“Why would I want to?”

“One last thing - ” Teddy took a step closer to Nico, shame in his eyes. “I lied to you. Hecate told me not to, but I was so afraid you wouldn’t trust me… Teddy Lupin’s real, but he’s not me. I’m not a Follower of Hecate… I’m a son of Hecate.”

In the wake of Nico’s stunned silence, the not-Teddy mumbled an incantation to himself and morphed. He looked the same as Teddy, but older; sixteen rather than eleven. He held out his hand with hesitation, fearful Nico wouldn’t accept his friendship back.

“It’s okay, Ted - um… whoever you are. I would’ve done the same thing; you never forced me to accept your help or your training. I don’t care who you said you were. To be honest, you were right; with the rivalry between your mom and my ex-dad, I would never have accepted your help.”

The not-Teddy had disbelief in his eyes, so Nico continued. “What’s your name? Tell me, and we’ll go to your mother.” More silence, so Nico grabbed his hand and smiled. “I’m serious. I’m not mad. What’s your name?”

The not-Teddy beamed back in unadulterated joy. “Alabaster. Alabaster C. Torrington.” **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put nothing up top 'cause I knew you'd skip it anyway.
> 
> So... we finally know who Teddy is! What do you think? Did you guess it? I'm curious!
> 
> I didn't write that Italian lullaby. A link to the site I got it from and an audio of a man singing it (if you wanna know the tune) is [right here](http://www.mamalisa.com/?t=es&p=1447)  
> .
> 
> Format note on the Italian: I used italics when Maria or Nico switched languages in the same line, to show the shift. But, since I didn't italicize any Italian previously where the entire paragraph was in Italian, I kept it non-italicized. For the format police out there that need a reason for everything - I do my best to keep things consistent.
> 
> Thank you to [Animely](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Animely/pseuds/Animely) and [The Queen of the Court](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenOfTheCourt/pseuds/TheQueenOfTheCourt) for fixing my Italian for me!
> 
> Also - Giulia's still away, so this is only edited by Sara. And, because summer, Giulia comes back tomorrow but Sara leaves today, so CH 33 will be Sara-less. After that, hopefully the team'll be back together.
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Teddy wrapped his arms around Nico’s neck in a comforting hug  
> SARA: I'd ship it.  
> LISSY: Neddy? Tedco?  
> SARA: TECO  
> LISSY: TECO
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/)  
> Other: [Viviana - Italian Translator (Advisor)](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	33. Irony, Thy Name Is Jesus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico is brought to speak to Hecate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Death/Killing (mentioned only; non-graphic)  
> Word Count: 2536
> 
>    
> I FORGOT THIS LAST WEEK; I PUT IT IN THE NOTES JUST NOW BUT IT'S ALSO HERE JUST IN CASE:  
> The Italian lullaby is not mine - I found it online. [Here's a link to the site;](http://www.mamalisa.com/?t=es&p=1447) you can hear an audio of a man singing it, if you're curious for the actual tune. 
> 
> Ignore the awkward passive voice in the chapter summary - since those summaries show up in people's inboxes, I didn't want to mention WHO brought Nico to Hecate in case someone hasn't read the previous chapter yet.
> 
> And... wow... ten chapters left... then the story's over... that's... well, I started posting 26 April 2015... so, that's...
> 
> ONE YEAR, ONE MONTH, TWENTY-SIX DAYS AGO???? AND NOW IT'S ALMOST OVER???? WHAAAAAAA...
> 
> I'm posting this before answering last chapter's comments, but I know some people helped correct Google Translate's Italian. So, I will fix it in the next 15ish minutes - I just never got around to logging on AO3 this week.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

  

Nico never imagined Hecate could be so beautiful.

It wasn’t in a romantic or attractive sense. No, Hecate’s beauty and grace came from pure power. She looked the way Nico thought a goddess would back in his Westover Hall years - like she could kill you with a snap of her fingers.

The underworld’s texts had described her well - the seductress stereotype with ‘skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony,’ as the Brother’s Grimm put it. They modeled Snow White off of her, although based on the Disney movie Will forced him to watch, the fierceness of her aura and character didn’t translate. That poison-apple red dress, Greek fire bracelets, fluttering locks, and moving tattoos on her sternum screamed enchantress. The Greek headdress painted her as royalty; her throne told the world she was an empress. A goddess.

They were in a church. A Roman Catholic church. Until 1933, until six-years-old, he had sat in pews like the ones next to him every Sunday. As the teenage Nico walked down the aisle, he recalled his childhood self kneeling and listening to mass beside Nonno, Mamma, and Bianca.

Nico no longer worshiped that God. He found it ironic that a son of Clementia, the Roman Goddess of forgiveness and mercy, and his fight against the corrupted state of Roman religion to restore it to its former glory morphed into the religion that ended the outward reign of Olympus.

_Irony, thy name is Jesus._

Still, Nico was in awe of his surroundings. Roman arches of marble held a domed ceiling adorned with mosaic after mosaic of medieval art. Nico recognized the style; Nonno took him and Bianca to a few of the ancient churches over the years, many of which were maintained with money from the Vatican. But this artwork… Nico’s preschool brain had only hazy memories of what little he had to compare it to.

The sheer age of the thing rocked Nico to the core. And its size, how it towered over Nico and the son of Hecate beside him? It took his breath away. How long had it taken for laborers of fifteen-hundred years ago to construct? To design? Even without an interest in architecture like Annabeth's, the sight transported him to another plane. With everything that had happened in the last two months, Nico welcomed that feeling.

On a blue background of a sea, a golden sun rose to cast the red and orange colors of dawn on the water. In the center stood Jesus, wrapped in robes the color of the star behind him, with his disciples on either side. Below that, layers of other sites: sheep staring up at him, golden scripture glittering on an oceanic background, and so much more that Nico couldn’t process it, all the colors vibrant despite their age.

He and Alabaster walked through the wooden gates to where Hecate stood, facing them with her back to the altar, so its marble statues and Roman columns framed her. It made her even more divine.

Alabaster knelt to her; Nico did the same. Hecate smiled and walked towards them, the click of her heels echoing off the walls. She extended her hand towards her son and helped him up, then did the same for Nico.

“Welcome to the Santi Cosma e Damiano, Nico di Angelo.”

Nico opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unable to fathom words. He closed his eyes and got ahold of himself, then tried again. “We’re in _Roma_?”

Hecate nodded. “I reside here, as many non-Olympic deities find their own places. I showed it to Alabaster’s guardian when I asked him to look after him the Second Giant War. Though, it looked far less beautiful - after the Second Titan War, my realm crumbled to ruin.”

Nico turned to Alabaster and saw a grievous expression in his eyes. “Claymont saved my life too many times to count,” he explained in a thick tone, “But, he wanted rebirth after he finished his job. I wanted to... but, I couldn’t keep him in Mist Form anymore.”

Hecate put a hand on her son’s shoulder in a tender touch but said nothing. She nodded to him to assure him, then turned back to Nico to allow Alabaster time to recollect himself.

“The Roman Emperor dedicated this place, in part, to my son Valerius Romulus. The other beneficiary was a grandchild of Jupiter and you can be sure that the King of Olympus did everything to make sure his descendant stole the limelight. To this day, most say Valerius’s dedication is conjecture.

“It was a Roman place of worship until the then King of Italy, Theoderic the Great, gave this place to the Pope. Though disgusted for many centuries, I see the Fates’ wisdom now - reassigning this place to the Vatican kept it decorated and in its original glory. I come here when I can, using my magic to keep mortals from intruding, and my power over the Mist lets my sacred place reflect my realm without harming the physical structures. Sometimes I watch their services and remember that, powerful as the Olympians are, most of the mortal world lives without us. Being a Titan, I knew what losing absolute power felt like before the decline of Rome - I enjoy learning about the modern world, even if most other gods pretend the human world extends only to their children.”

She paused and glanced around the pews. “Did your grandfather bring you here as a child?”

Nico swallowed, forcing himself not to collapse as he had not even a half-hour before. “No, my lady. We lived in _Val d'Aosta_ ; it’s closer to Paris than _Roma_.”

“Ah.” She turned towards the altar and walked to its side as she spoke. “Beyond revealing himself to you and _apologizing for the trick,_ did my son explain anything else?”

Nico couldn’t help but grin at the parental scolding coming from a goddess. And, Alabaster’s reaction made the whole thing a lot funnier. “Not much," Nico answered. "I’m ashamed of it, but... Alabaster found me not in my… right mind…”

Hecate laughed; a cheerful bell that reverberated around the room. “You shouldn’t apologize for emotions, Nico. I know you were at the gravesite of your family; I’d be more worried if you _didn’t_ have an emotional reaction.”

Nico smiled again, though this once felt more forced with the painful memory resurfacing. Still, he felt relieved; Hades never let him show any kind of weakness. “He told me about the Artifacts, and how you plan to let me speak to my family again. He told me about my father’s war, and how my joining you might fix things. And I accepted your mission and your patronage.”

Hecate turned and stared at Alabaster with angered shock. “Alabaster! You should _not_ have given Nico that opportunity before speaking to me.”

“I didn’t ask him to!” Alabaster protested. “It just sort of came out of nowhere…”

“He’s right,” Nico jumped in, defending his friend. “He didn’t ask me to renounce Hades. But… I had to.”

“All right,” Hecate sighed. “Alabaster, you followed my orders, then, so thank you.”

Alabaster bowed again, though only his head. “You’re welcome, mum.”

Hecate finished her turn, so her entire body angled towards Nico again. “If you forswore your father, I can’t reverse it. However, I won’t accept your patronage until you know what you’re getting into. I am not Hades; I use warriors, not pawns. I want your loyalty by choice, or not at all.

“Hades and Persephone fought against my rejoining the gods after I betrayed them in the Second Titan War. After Thanatos returned, I took Hazel as a ghost at Hades’ request, to keep her alive and him from hypocrisy. He knew it was the right thing to do, but always suspected an ulterior motive. Not without reason - we’ve fought in the past - but I had no specific plan! My children and I, so weakened by Kronos’s defeat, had no time to wage another war.

“After Claymond left Alabaster, we both knew it was time to focus on Persephone’s curse - ”

“Persephone’s _what_?!” Nico cried. As scary as Persephone was at times, Nico never heard a time when she got angry enough to curse something. That was Hades’ department.

Hecate said nothing about the interruption; her eyes were far away, bitter and hateful. “You know my role in Persephone’s marriage. Weeks after Zeus solved the issue, I noticed a change in my children. They fought for dominance. They killed each other to lead their half-siblings. I knew it was a curse, but could never figure out its source, nor find a way to lift it.

“The night of December 20th, Hades and Persephone summoned me to their throne room and accused me of kidnapping you. Though offended, I held myself from action until I discovered the truth. Queen Persephone never wanted her mother’s rescue; she blames _me_ for her fate. She's one of the few goddesses with magic to match mine… between the time frame and the power of it, I knew this was her doing.

“I got angry; I admit it. I acted with every pettiness I hate about the Olympians. I used my powers against Persephone and lied about kidnapping you to bait her into a fight. I hurt her beyond repair; if she were mortal, I would’ve killed her. And Hades felt the same grief I felt with every child killed at the sight of his wife. He declared war on me and my kingdom in his family's name. Unless I do the unthinkable: forgive and revive the woman who slaughtered my children, take my blessing from Hazel and deliver her soul to Asphodel, and force you back to a father who uses you without regard for your health or sanity… when midnight strikes on January 1st, my people face genocide and Hades destroys the mortal world.

“My original plan was so simple. I tell Hades to kill Riddle so he sends you to hunt the horcruxes, and Alabaster helps you through Hogwarts and keeps you in the know and on track. With the skills in the dark arts - the realm of magic where Hades and I meet - you could find all his horcruxes. But, a friend in your mind would keep such powers from corrupting you and making you like Riddle. I knew of your illness; I watched you after Hades proposed sending you to my realm. With such thoughts, I needed to keep you from hurting yourself beyond repair.

“After collecting the final horcrux, Alabaster would explain the truth - I need Riddle alive. With his horcruxes unharmed, I could transfer his soul together again and give him immortal life. He would guard over my children as my lieutenant, using the ruthless power he inherited from my beloved Merlin to keep them in line. But, he would be forever tied to me - the spell only works if he repents what he did. He would feel the weight of every life he took on his shoulders every waking minute; he would never find peace again. Instead of Punishment, he would spend the rest of eternity seeing everything he destroyed, and wanting to die… but knowing that, to do so, he would have to commit that crime once more. Eternal torture for his crimes, but in a way that saves him from death when so many of my descendants die.

“Now, many of the horcruxes are gone. Destroyed. I told Riddle that I could grant him immortal life if he let you collect his horcruxes, which is why no Death Eater has stopped you. But, as soon as he finds out that I can't uphold my promise, he’s outside of my control. Your friends at Hogwarts hunt the final horcruxes - though it kills me to watch my descendant die… Merlin convinced me. He’s too dangerous; he must go to Punishment.”

Hecate closed her eyes and lowered her head, taking a moment of grief. Nico turned to Alabaster in confusion. “Her husband,” he whispered, “She made him the God of Wizards and the Wizarding World after he died.”

“Wasn’t she a virgin goddess?” Nico asked.

“Not anymore,” Alabaster whispered with a smirk.

“My plan changes now,” Hecate continued, in a tone that made it clear she'd heard _everything_ they’d just said. “I… regret taking Persephone’s life. She deserves death, but she is the only one who can take the curse from my children. I need the Staff to revive her, and to threaten her and Hades to force a repeal. I need the Robes to hide myself and my allies from their wrath once this ends. I need a child of the Underworld, for only they can yield these weapons to their full potential. I ask you, Nico di Angelo to be my champion.”

Hecate walked back to the front of the altar, her eyes never leaving Nico’s face. Alabaster gave a slight shove that pushed Nico in front of the goddess. Nico threw a glance of apprehension to his friend, but Alabaster only nodded in encouragement. He walked to Nico’s left - to his mother’s right-hand side - and said, “Nico di Angelo, the former son of Hades, kneel.”

Nico knelt.

“My mother, Hecate, the Titan-Goddess of Magic, offers you her patronage. She asks you to renounce your former father - Hades, lord of the dead - in public and become the general of her armies. She asks you to stand beside me in my fight to free my siblings of Persephone’s curse, to find the Artifacts of Thanatos with me, and use them as she instructs. She asks you to heal Persephone and force her to lift her curse, and to aid your friends in their horcrux hunt in her name and kill Tom Riddle. She asks you to save her children, and her people.

“In return, she swears on the River Styx to grant you complete freedom. After the wishes I stated are complete, and you have done your duty, you needn’t belong to her anymore. She will give you the Orb to find your family, to speak with them and make peace. She will contact Apollo, the God of healers, in your name to give you help you heal from the illness that plagues you. And, for as long as you serve her, you will have immortality. Your father will have no power over you or any part of you unless you choose to give it back to him.”

_Freedom… real, absolute freedom…_

“I accept the Lady Hecate’s terms and her patronage,” Nico vowed. “On the River Styx, I swear to the terms she lays before me, and will serve her with pride until I meet her all wishes.”

“I accept your patronage,” Hecate declared. “And I swear on the River Styx to the mentioned terms. Rise.”

Nico stood, feeling a sensation like the one he felt when accepted “Teddy” all those weeks ago. But this came not from a demigod, but a goddess. It felt… glorious.

Alabaster smiled from ear to ear as he spoke. “I present Nico di Angelo, under the patronage of Hecate; a general to her army, and - alongside Merlin - a temporary God of the Wizarding World.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... that happened.
> 
> So, I'm curious - do you think Hecate is lying? Yes? No? Who are you rooting for? Hecate or Hades? And, is Nico brainwashed or just making decisions outside the norm? I don't normally do English-class-esc. questions like that, but I'm legitimately curious.
> 
> Giulia's still out, but Sara is not. I know I said opposite last week, but I was wrong!
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Gave this place to the Pope  
> SARA: Should Pope be capitalized [it wasn't capitalized at that point]  
> LISSY: I don't know... I'm a modern orthodox Jew from a family of loud Jews attempting to write about the Pope. I'm sort of in over my head here. Just be glad I found a Roman church that was CATHOLIC  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	34. The Letter of Snide Self-Commentary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico contacts Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing, Violence (non-graphic). Suicide & Self-Harm (mentioned only), Drugs & Alcohol (referenced)  
> Word Count: 2536
> 
>  
> 
> Just a personal update: I have a more specific date for the staged reading! The script is scheduled to be finalized on 5 September, which puts the staged reading at some point in Nov, depending on how long it takes for everyone to learn everything. I have my cast, and we're all really good friends and it's really cool! So... I'll keep you updated on that, but... yeah. 
> 
> "A Deadly Game of Chess" coming to you November 2016!
> 
> And if you think this is good - it took me about a year to write, including the while-posting revisions. I've been working on this show since August 2014, and planning it since 2011. So... hype!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________PERCY____________________**

 

Brother.

For the first thirteen years of his life, Percy never knew what the word meant. It had always just been him and his mom against the world - Smelly Gabe, the Greek Gods, poverty in New York… everything.

In seventh grade, Tyson somehow walked into his life. Not a graceful gait but Percy had always liked it that way - he’d much rather have a loud and happy and active companion than a cautious and slow one. Percy hated people who never spoke their minds - it frustrated him.

Despite Tyson being his brother through and through, their relationship was never… well, normal. Tyson lived with Poseidon under the sea, making weapons and general-ing the Cyclopes army. Whatever ‘general-ing’ entailed.

The past school year - the year before Hogwarts - Percy finished his senior year of high school at Goode. He got good enough grades to qualify for New Rome’s college with Annabeth. He didn’t cause a disaster or kill anyone. He got a diploma. He got the one thing the twelve-year-old Percy was so desperate to have, the one thing that, until he got it, he never thought he _would_ have.

At the end of that June, Percy Jackson got a future that offered him more than the label of “screw-up” or “loser” or “helpless”. He’d go to college, he’d get a degree, he’d _do_ something with his life. He wouldn’t end up as a bum. He wouldn’t end up like Gabe.

But, a funny thing about the future is that no matter how sure something seems, it’s just as likely to happen as not to. Percy knew the Fates - he’d seen them more than once - and he knew just how much they liked keeping the future in the dark. Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson could imagine a world in which he had a diploma and a girlfriend ten leagues above his own and a mother married to a man she loved. He could imagine living in a decent sized apartment in New York with enough money to forgo worries about getting food on the table. He could even imagine seeing his father again, and having a relationship with him. Of course, the Percy of twelve assumed that all of it was  a fantasy destined never to happen, but he could imagine such a thing.

But, a brother? An honest-to-gods brother who lived with him, worked with him, attended school with him, confided in him, helped him, and asked for help _from_ him? The thought of such a future never once crossed Percy’s mind. He never wanted it, never wished for it.

Until it happened, and Percy realized how happy it made him.

Near the end of August, his mom called Percy into the kitchen while Nico took a shower. There she sat with Paul beside her, and, with bright eyes, explained that she and Paul wanted to host Nico during the school year. Percy assured her it was an amazing idea, and welcomed Nico into the home as soon as he was out of the bathroom and dressed.

“Like a really long sleepover,” Percy said that evening, sitting next to Nico on Percy’s bed. “Fun never has to end. Make sure you get your work done before the bell rings, because when we’re together, we’re gonna tear up this city.”

“Define ‘tear up'.” Nico countered. “Because I’d rather not get imprisoned for underage drugs and drinking the _second_ someone gave me a shot.”

“It means whatever you want it to,” Percy answered swiftly. “I can show you around, find some emo place for you to do graffiti art. Teach you to skateboard - if you like Shadow Travel, it’s a healthier way to get the same kind of rush. Sneak into places we’re not supposed to be, maybe find a nice area for you and Will to - ”

“Hang out because _we’re friends_.”

“But you like him.”

“No, I don’t. And besides, he’s straight.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Dude… _no_ , he’s not. And he’s got a thing for - ”

“Percy!”

“Fine, fine. But, that’s the condition if you’re gonna stay here. You’re not allowed to be all… brooding anymore. You got grief, you tell me - or at least Mom or Paul, or _someone_. And when I say we’re going to have a movie-moment day, we’re having a movie-moment day. Deal?”

Nico looked at him with sparkling eyes and a grin that turned him from the fifteen-year-old son of Hades to the ten-year-old who just discovered his favorite game echoed reality. “Deal.”

Nico kept word. They started commandeering Sundays - the day of the week in which nothing ever happens - to go urban exploring and have a mortal’s adventure. Between something like a family and Goode's 10th grade program, that year in New York gave Nico lasting happiness and stability for the first time since Westover Hall.

And, in the process, Percy labeled the boy ‘brother’. He loved him the way he loved his mom or Paul, with a force and a fire that he could never have even guessed on that August day when he heard the words “Nico’s moving in with us.”

And, in the process, Percy knew Nico loved him back. Not like the crush of years ago - the obsessive longing and the self-hatred that came with it - but the same kind of love Percy felt. Platonic love - but stronger than any romantic love could ever be.

The two never said the words to each other. Percy named all sorts of reasons - the association to Nico’s past crush, some arbitrary sense of ‘manliness’, it not needing words because they both knew it… but now Percy admitted the truth. His fatal flaw was loyalty, and when he looked at Nico, he saw a brand new family member he could lose; refusing to say the words helped keep things at an arm’s length.

In short, Percy Jackson was a coward.

And now, every few hours he checked in with Will and Lou Ellen to hear that they had no idea where to find Nico. Every few hours he had to IM his parents and tell them that the person they’d come to love as a second son was still missing. Every day, it grew more and more likely that Nico di Angelo was dead.

Like Will said in the Solstice meeting two days before - if Nico was dead, he died thinking no one loved him. And that was a much Percy’s fault as it was Will’s.

An owl dropped a letter in his lap, interrupting his thoughts. Percy watched in dazed confusion as it swooped out the library’s window on its way to the owlery. Hermione had dragged Percy there earlier that morning, to read and take notes on various Greek stuff that might help them stop the end of the world. While Percy couldn’t read, Hermione wanted a demigod there to ask questions and bounce ideas off of. But, she had no questions, and found nothing of value, so Percy was restless and let his mind wander.

“This owl just gave me something,” Percy said, causing Hermione to look up at him in vague interest, “But it’s not like I have any family in the Wizarding World.”

“Open it,” Hermione advised. “Maybe it’s your dad - doesn’t he send you messages in times of trouble?”

“Yeah…” Percy mumbled, “But he usually has the decency to talk to me or at least use Hermes.”

He opened it, and saw the Greek, not of his father’s hand, but another’s. He’d seen this handwriting before, most recently in a journal he’d found as he and Annabeth set for Hogwarts again. The same handwriting as that final, heartbreaking word: 

> _Goodbye._

“Oh my gods…” Percy whispered, feeling hot tears of relief press against the back of his eyes. “It’s… it’s _Nico_.”

“Nico?!” Hermione exclaimed. “He’s all right?! What’s going - ”

Hermione stopped herself; Percy knew she’d seen his face and realized the magnitude of the letter. Percy stared at the address where Nico’s pen had marked the page, and the left-hand corner swimming in white instead of a return address. With a gentle hand, Percy opened the letter and grabbed the note inside. 

> _Percy -_
> 
> _I know I should be saying this in person, or, at the very least, IMing you. But this is less of a message than a confession, and I don’t think I could get through it in person. I know that makes me a coward, but you’ve proven that you'll never judge me. No matter what I say or do._
> 
> _It’s up to you if you want to tell Annabeth or anyone else. There are parts I suppose everyone needs to know, but, well, I’ll get on with it. Just use your judgment, all right? I can’t stop you from talking, but you’ll know what’s public and what’s private._
> 
> _Wow… I’m rambling. In a letter. That takes skill._

Percy laughed; Nico’s sarcasm came off the page in waves. Tears spilled over - there was no way anyone could emulate Nico’s voice with such perfection. This _was_ him. He was alive. He was all right.

> _First, I’m sorry about the 19th. I had to leave - and I’ll tell you why soon - and I knew that if I told you (or anyone else), you’d convince me to stay. And I really wanted to stay. One comment from you, Jason, Hazel, or any of our other friends would’ve been enough to keep me there. So, I made the hardest decision of my life - to give up the love I fought for so long to have. I knew then, like I know now, that it’s a shitty enough move to make you hate me._
> 
> _I really hope you don’t hate me._

“Of course not,” Percy whispered. He didn’t know what language he said it in - his brain was too overloaded to take note.

> _I went back to Aosta, where I grew up. I befriended a son of Hecate - Alabaster C. Torrington - who used magic to shield me from my father. It was my decision, Percy, not Hecate’s. And not Alabaster’s either - I asked him to perform the spell long after I’d come up with the plan on my own. I would’ve run sooner, but if I abandoned this quest, Hades would kill me._
> 
> _And I mean that literally. He would smite me in a second._
> 
> _I’m now with Hecate and know about the mess I caused. I know about Persephone’s death (and that Hecate killed her), the impending war, and the coming Wizard Genocide. I’m working with Alabaster and Hecate to stop it all before the 31st; Hecate told me you’re at Hogwarts doing the same. Maybe we’ll meet in the middle, maybe soon. I hope so._
> 
> _Despite what you might think, this is all my choice. Hecate gave me options, and I chose to join her. Bigger things are going on than I realized back in August when I accepted the quest. But I’m doing my duty. And I’m doing it with people who confide in me, rather than manipulate me into imprisoning my friends._
> 
> _You need to hear this from me before Hades finds out and does Fates-know-what: I renounced him and took Hecate as my patron. She granted me temporary immortality so Hades can’t punish me for “betraying” him. When he finds out, he’ll probably call bullshit on my free will and assume Hecate bewitched me or something, but that’s_ _not true_ _. Hell, if it is, I don’t care - I finally feel like I have control for the first time since... New York, I guess._
> 
> _Finish hunting the horcruxes. I figured out one last one, but if you have others missing, I don't know, so I can't help. You need to weaken Riddle - I’ll kill him when the time is right. I know what my “true self” is, and how it’ll stop all this insanity. You don’t have to worry about me - I may have given up Hades, but I’m still loyal to the camp. I don’t want the end of the world, and, despite what Hades might tell you, neither does Hecate._
> 
> _Ok, so, the final horcrux: Harry Potter._

Percy read that last sentence five times before it sank in. And even then…

> _First question I’m assuming you’re asking (because you’re not a dumbass): how do I know this? Well, with more time on my hands and a clear head not dominated by thoughts of “how do I make Dad love me” I can figure the stuff out that I should’ve at least a month ago._
> 
> _Hades mentioned another prophecy concerned Harry; that’s why he wanted us to befriend him. I tracked it down (alone, so Hades can't call manipulation), and it goes like this:_
> 
> _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches_   
>  _Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies_   
>  _And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal_   
>  _But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not_   
>  _And either must die at the hand of the other_   
>  _For neither can live while the other survives_   
>  _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_ _  
>  _ Will be born as the seventh month dies"
> 
> _Most of it is just characteristics that point to Harry, but the middle lines are the important ones. The scar on his head is the “mark” because Riddle went after Harry, thus making him important - my first dream. A power Riddle knows not is love - or, more specifically, empathy. In my second dream, Riddle felt nothing but hate and cold… even if Harry’s an annoying little shit, he at least cares about someone._
> 
> _And the last line? That’s from my final dream - one I never got around to telling you about. Harry’s blood runs through Riddle’s veins because Harry resurrected Riddle.*_
> 
> * * *
> 
>   _*HI LOOK AT THE MARGINS:_
> 
> _Just reread this, and I realized how that sounds. Harry was tied up against his will and forced to by one of Riddle’s henchmen. He’s not Riddle’s ally, I promise._
> 
> * * *
> 
>   _The issue with Harry’s blood is that his mom died to save him, giving Harry the blessing of his mother. When Riddle used that blessed blood on himself, he resurrected that sacrifice. It makes the shield of protection even stronger - so long as one of them is alive, the other can only die if they choose to._
> 
> _And, that sounds an awful lot like a horcrux, doesn’t it? One has to die for the other to die?_
> 
> _Plus, Harry and my feud came out of nowhere. I looked at one of his friends funny at King’s Cross, and suddenly he’s stalking me, and my sword is at his throat. When I see horcruxes, I get this kind of angry feeling - I didn’t know what that felt like yet, since we hadn’t run into a horcrux when I met Harry. And the feud was born._
> 
> _Harry has to die, but he has to choose to die. And, he has to die the same way as any other horcrux - a way he can’t come back with. I don’t know if that means stabbing him with the Sword of Gryffindor or what, but you have to talk to him and make him see sense._
> 
> _Ok, here’s the personal bit - why I had to run away. I trust you, Percy._

“You too,” Percy whispered. 

> _I self-harm._

Percy let out something between a sigh, hiccup, and laugh of shocked horror. The words didn’t compute… Nico… self-harm… I… Nico… self… what?

> _You know how people say you build things up in your head, and nothing’s ever as hard to do as you think it will?_
> 
> _Well, people are fucking stupid. Screw leaving you people -_ _that_ _was the hardest thing I’ve ever done._
> 
> _But it’s not your fault, Percy. I’ve been through Tartarus and back and I’ve never known how to deal with it. I’ve been sick for a really long time, and I never told anyone how bad it got. And when I was with you and Sally and Paul I was so fucking happy that I felt guilty about it. I mean, you hear about survivor’s guilt turning people mad, but you never think about it much. I’ve been battling myself for so many years, but now - between Will (I assume he told you about us by now, but if not, should I even bother to say surprise?) and you and our friends, I had nothing to be sad about. And, with Jason and Will and other resources Sally found for me in New York, I knew how to deal with my depression. I knew that self-harm was a mental illness too, but I felt like I deserved to be depressed and suicidal and all that shit. As much as I wish otherwise, facts don’t really impact emotions much._
> 
> _Harry found out about my problem during Umbridge’s detention. And he used it as blackmail to find out about the quest._

“Nope,” Percy mumbled, though his vision already turned red. “Nopity, nope, nope nope, just read, Jackson, deal with… just read… nope, nope…”

> _LISTEN TO ME PERCY - don’t kill him. Beat him up - and send me pictures, if possible - but he’s not worth shit. Definitely not enough to turn someone as humane as you into a murderer._
> 
> _But, back to why I ran:_
> 
> _I was terrified of letting Hades down and knew that going against his orders would turn me into a grease spot. I was so terrified I couldn’t even think those thoughts in my head - it took me like twenty fucking minutes to write that sentence! And I knew he wouldn't care about the self-harm or the blackmail as reasons for failure. He cares about me, I know that, but his anger takes control when I do something wrong. And he’s never tried to fix that._
> 
> _Honestly, that was the moment I decided to leave. It was for Harry, sure, I needed to get away from him - the stress and blackmail were so horrible I almost killed myself. If some wizard hadn't walked in and interrupted me, I would've. But, that got me thinking: why was I doing a quest - killing myself over a quest - for a man who punished me when I made the slightest mistake? And never rewarded me when I did anything right? I joined the quests for two gods-damned Great Prophecies despite not needing to go, and he never gave me a ‘thanks’ or ‘congratulations’. He showed up once to tell me he wants me to be happy, but that doesn’t fix the weeks worth of memories I have of outright abuse._
> 
> _That was the last straw._
> 
> _I don’t know what I’m going to do after the 31st, should I still be alive. But I’m never going back to Hades and Persephone - I’d rather serve Kronos. But, (and tell the others this) I never once thought of betraying you or either camp, and I’m thinking about all of you while I’m with Hecate. I’m fighting in your names._
> 
> _And Will - it’s all right how things ended. It was incredible while it lasted, and, like I said, I knew going in that someone might come out hating my guts. Even if it’s really hard to think about Will hating my guts._
> 
> _Just know that this was never about you - Percy, you went from being the most complicated person in my life to one of the only ones who I always know where I stand. You’re my brother, Percy Jackson. And I will love you for the rest of my life, even if you hate me for the rest of yours._
> 
> __\- Nico di Angelo_ _

 

Percy looked up and realized Hermione had walked him to the Room of Requirement. He’d been so busy reading and reacting that he hadn’t even felt himself move; his legs had just carried him to his destination. Everyone stared at him, waiting to hear the contents of the note in his hand. Lethargic, Percy put Nico’s letter on the table beside him.

Then, he dived at Harry Potter.

Everyone in the room screamed either Percy or Harry’s names, but Percy was way past hearing. He slammed the follower of Hecate against the nearest wall and stared at him with absolute and utter hate in his eyes. His right hand was on Harry’s gut, and the left clasped his throat. With Nico’s words burned into his brain, it was all Percy could do not to tighten his grip and choke the kid to death.

Through gritted teeth, in a voice so faint only Harry heard, Percy spoke. “I know _everything_ . And you’re the bad guy in this - never forget that. Nico almost _killed himself_ because of your abuse. No matter what you do, you will _never_ make up for that. Nico di Angelo went through more shit than you can even understand - the kind of shit that would turn anyone else insane. You weren’t torturing some kid; you were torturing a godsdamn hero. You will _die_ regretting that. The only reason I don’t kill you right here and right now is that Nico told me not to because he’s more of a human than you will _ever_ be.”

Percy let him go; Harry panted and fell to the floor. “I know.”

Percy stared at him, heaving, with sadistic rage boiling his insides. “Don’t ever meet my eye again. You give me a reason, and I’ll kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giulia is STILL out :(
> 
> But coming back soon! She be in Africa right now!
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Through gritted teeth... "you will ever be.”  
> SARA: YES KILL HIM GOOD  
> LISSY: YES KILL HARRY POTTER
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	35. Stone Slides... Not Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Alabaster search for the Artifacts of Thanatos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warning: Violence (non-graphic), Cursing, Self-Harm (mentioned only)  
> Word Count: 2647
> 
>  
> 
> Ten points to anyone who understands the reference in today's chapter title.
> 
> Also - I can't put it up here, because of spoilers, but there might be something at the end of the chapter you find... troubling. WAIT FOR MY EXPLANATION before you get mad at me in comments. I promise I have a good reason!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

 

“Gods, it’s freezing. You’d think immortality would, you know, help with this shit.”

Alabaster laughed. “I dunno. It’s only temporary, so… maybe it’s different?”

Nico sighed. “Just my luck. Immortality with none of the perks.”

“Hey - stop it.” Alabaster’s tone went from teasing to serious. “You’re saving the world. Stop being so down on yourself.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “It’s just a saying, Al.”

“Not to you, and we both know it. Come on - we tracked down all three Artifacts, we might run into your friends, it’s been three whole days since you last cut! Life’s looking up!”

Nico couldn’t help but smile at Alabaster’s optimism. “I’ve gone three days without cutting before. Give me another few weeks and we’ll celebrate.”

“Little successes, right?”

“Gods, you make it sound like you’re my A.A. sponsor. Now find me the secret passageway you promised before my frozen ass kicks yours.”

Alabaster led Nico through Hogsmeade, to a shop called “Honeydukes”. The lights were off, shutters drawn, and door locked. All good signs of the owners being away.

“Merry Christmas, Neeks,” Alabaster teased as he closed in on the door.

And the wave of grief poured in again, as hard as Nico tried to shove it down. Grief was for times alone in the _Santi Cosma e Damiano_ , when he could hide under the walls of the pews and cry. Grief wasn’t for the middle of Hogsmeade, when their current mission relied on stealth, and was  sure to be lost if Nico curled up into a ball and threw a tantrum.

Alabaster realized what he’d said half a second later. “Gods… Sorry… I didn’t mean to - are you all right?”

“No - but I’m dealing. I’ll be okay,” Nico forced a smile. “I miss him something awful, but it had to end. I fell in love, he didn’t… It happens. First heart’s meant to break, right?”

“...Right.” Alabaster kneeled in the snow, grabbed his wand, and finished picking the lock. The door opened with a slight _creeeeek_. “After you, my lord.”

Nico laughed, which he was grateful for. “Don’t _ever_ call me that again.”

As soon as he entered, the smell of melting caramel hit his nose. Through the little sunlight from the ajar door, Nico saw the black and white tile floor, with its green walls covered with shelves and shelves of candy jars. Alabaster and Nico exchanged a look of delight, but refrained from indulging themselves.

“A waste, though,” Alabaster groaned on their way down to the cellar.

“Until the owners find candy missing and raise the alarm,” Nico shot back.

“Ugh… fine, but you owe me chocolate once this all ends.”

“Deal.”

The dusty cellar had candy, though packaged in towering boxes rather than set on display. With a flick of his hand, Alabaster made a square tile pop open, revealing a trap door with an endless stone staircase underneath.

In silence, they walked down infinite steps to a labyrinth-like cavern. Alabaster created some Greek Fire in his palm to light the way, but even then they only saw a few feet ahead of them at most. After ten minutes of walking further and further into the Earth, Nico - walking ahead of Alabaster - hit his head on a stone wall/frame… thing.

Nico cried out in pain. “Sorry!” Alabaster called from behind, running to meet Nico and bring the light forth.

“Yeah…” Nico grumbled. His vision cleared a moment later, at which point he inspected the cavern; Alabaster wasn’t touching anything with that death fire in his hand. “It’s a kind of burrow,” Nico declared. “Al, get rid of the fire. We’ll have to crawl it blind.”

Alabaster did so, and climbed into the tunnel after Nico. They snaked their way through for over an hour, until, at last, the dirt opened up and Nico could stand again. He wiped the soggy soil from his palms, elbows, and knees while he waited for Alabaster to roll out with an “oof.”

“Light, Al?”

“Wow, someone’s bossy.”

Nico rolled his eyes in the dark; Alabaster whispered his incantation, and green flames danced in his palm yet again.

“You look like a swamp monster,” he said with a laugh.

Nico raised his eyebrows. “And you look like an _actual_ monster. Come on - the sooner we get to Hogwarts, the sooner we can take a shower.”

He walked forward, and tripped, his knees hitting stone. Nico grimaced; he dared not try to stand - sticky blood already seeped into his black jeans.

“Nico?”

“Fine - just scraped up my knees. There’s some stone here, can you - ”

“Yeah.”

With the strength regained, Nico stood. As Alabaster got closer, Nico realized he fell not on a rock, but a stone slide. A _steep_ stone slide.

“Fucking wonderful,” Nico muttered.

“What now?” Alabaster asked.

“We climb,” Nico decided. “And hope we don’t get scraped up too bad.”

“Nico, that’s at least a seventy-five degree angle.”

“I passed Sophomore Geometry with a C-. I have no idea what that means.”

“It _means_ it’s impossible to climb, unless you’re Spiderman.”

Nico groaned and sat on the dirt, at the base of the slide; Alabaster plopped down next to him. To procrastinate the slide problem, Nico focused on his knees. He pulled at the jean and yelped - the blood had already dried and stuck to his open wound. He held the jean as far from his knee as possible, and used his sword to cut a hole in the fabric. With care, he cut a knee-sized hole in each leg, to give the wound air. Then, he reached into the pocket of his aviator’s jacket, where he - thank the gods - found some cream and gauze left over from his early cutting days. He applied the cream, then wrapped both knees with the bandage, hoping it enough to keep infection out when he was wearing more dirt than clothing.

Gods, he needed Will. But the boy made it clear he never wanted Nico again.

“Okay,” Nico announced, shoving that thought down. “I can use the darkness. I use Shadow-Travel on my sword to dig it into the rock, like that stake climbers use on TV. It won’t take as much out of me as actual Shadow-Travel, but I have no idea how high this slide goes. So, prepare a magical parachute or something if we fall.”

“If the thing existed… but what about me? We can’t both hold onto the blade.”

“Loop your belt through my sword belt - we can use it like a harness. Hold onto my shoulders and scale the slide with your feet to take as much weight off of me as possible.”

“This sounds like a cartoon stunt that ends with a coyote-shaped cloud-hole.”

“You got a better idea?”

“Climb out of the passageway and get to Hogwarts on foot?”

“With my knees? Al, gauze will only do so much. I get that much dirt in the wounds, and not only will I get gangrene or something, but I’ll be screaming in pain the whole way. Besides, what if someone notices we broke in and out of Honeydukes? It's not two a.m anymore! Hades is already on the warpath over my allegiance - your mom told me so herself. If he discovers us... we're _dead_.”

“You can’t die.”

“But you can. And trust me, Hades isn’t gonna be fair to a child of Hecate right now.”

“Fine, let’s do it. But I end up in Punishment, I blame you.”

Alabaster extinguished his flame again, turning the cavern pitch black. Nico forced the shadows around his blade, and slammed the hilt as high as he could reach. He and Alabaster scaled the slide a few feet, until the blade was too low to facilitate movement. They both dug their hands and feet into small cracks in the rock, and Nico tore the sword out and plunged it in again, as high as he could reach.

It was tiring, painstaking work. After twenty minutes of the steps repeated over and over, Nico was covered in sweat with aching limbs and strained eyes as he used his powers over the shadows to see. The wounds on his knees opened up again from the effort, soaking the gauze to far beyond what was healthy.

When Nico reached with his sword for the hundred-millionth time, it buried itself not into an angled wall of rock, but a stone landing. Nico let go of the hilt and grabbed onto the edge of the platform with both hands.

“Al, we made it! Grab up!”

He extended his arms as far as they would go and just made it, grabbing on beside Nico.

“On the count of three,” he said. “One, two, THREE!”

They heaved and pulled with every joint in their fingers aflame, and climbed up onto the sweet, cold, flat stone landing. They rested on their backs, eyes closed and panting, as though they lay on the world’s softest mattress.

“What now?” Alabaster asked.

“Now, we get ourselves into Hogwarts, find a bathroom, and shower. After that… I think the Staff will be easiest, so we should get that first. Wait until dinner for the Robes, since everyone’ll be eating. And the Orb? With luck, we’ll run into Percy by then, and he’ll just give it to us.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They lied there for another few minutes, until Alabaster pushed himself from the ground and cried “ _Dissendium_!” As Nico stood, he saw a square of the wall open to the light of a corridor. He squinted as he walked inside with Alabaster, letting his eyes adjust. When he could finally make out his surroundings…

Hogwarts.

“We’re on the third floor,” Nico said. “I know a bathroom a few minutes from here - I can’t promise a shower, but definitely a sink. And we have to make sure no one sees us - if Umbridge finds me… or anyone in Slytherin minus Blaise and Hestia…”

“Got it.”

Thank the gods most of the castle’s teachers and students were spending Christmas with their families. Nico and Alabaster had no problem making their way to the bathroom and cleaning themselves up. His aviator’s jacket was so filthy that Nico had to let it soak in the sink, making it impossible to wear the slimy leather. It felt jarring, his arms uncovered, but Nico no longer cared who saw the scars; if all went to plan, no one he cared about _would_ see him - outside of Percy, anyway.

Nico tore off the gauze, so mangled it was useless anyway, and used a handy mixture of toilet paper and tape (stolen from the desk of Professor Burbage, Muggle Studies professor) to bandage his knees. Sure, there were still two gaping holes in his pants… but if people paid money for pre-ripped jeans, maybe this made them more valuable?

The six o’clock sun rose over the hills of Scotland when Nico and Alabaster made their way from the bathroom. Nico looked out from the windows in the hallways as he passed them. So tranquil… so permanent. Unless Nico could stop it, the world would end in one week - to the day - and yet Hogwarts kept its impossible serenity. “I stood for centuries,” the castle seemed to say, “Nothing will erase me from existence.”

_Except legions of homicidal, dead soldiers bent on killing everyone inside of you._

“We’re here,” Nico announced. “Be ready - I don’t know how he’ll react.”

Alabaster whispered a final incantation to the gargoyles, and they parted. He and Nico climbed the staircase in silence, using hand movements to communicate, rather than speech. The door - open, as always - revealed that the room was occupied.

“Headmaster Dumbledore?” Nico called.

Dumbledore glanced up from his parchment and put down his quill, eyes sparkling behind his half-moon glasses. With an air of a scheduled appointment, he replied, “Yes, Mr. di Angelo. Come in.”

“I brought a friend,” Nico motioned for Alabaster to reveal himself. They both walked into the room; Dumbledore brought two chairs forth with a calm and collected expression. “Alabaster C. Torrington,” Nico introduced him. “Son of Hecate.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore motioned for them to sit. Alabaster shot Nico a glance reading, _is he serious?_ Nico nodded in answer and snagged one of the chairs. Wary, Alabaster settled into the other.

“Have you heard of the Deathly Hallows, Professor?”

“I dislike disingenuity, Mr. di Angelo. I have no doubt you - or your allies - dug into my past and discovered everything of value, or you would not be here.”

“I need your wand.”

“What use would a demigod have with the Elder Wand?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then we find ourselves at an impasse.”

Alabaster tensed; Nico caught his eye.

_I can do this. Trust me, Al._

“I don’t want to fight you, Professor; I need your wand, over your corpse if necessary. But I plan to do everything in my power to prevent that.”

“And yet you refuse to explain yourself.”

“Because you don’t trust me. You side with Hades, I serve Hecate. If word gets back to Hades’ allies what my patron’s plan is, everything crumbles. I won’t risk all that due to a stubborn old man in a tower.”

Dumbledore pushed his chair away and stood. He walked to his bird cage, where a beautiful animal with bright red feathers and a long, golden plumed tail greeted him. He opened the cage and let the bird settle on his finger, pondering Nico’s words.

“You ask me to trust you, when everyone I’ve spoken to declares you brainwashed. You ask me to aid you, when I hear that the mistress you serve plans to save Lord Voldemort instead of kill him. If you know my past - and I know you do - you know that I can never let another Dark Wizard gain such power, whether or not I think my aid harmless at the time.”

Nico pushed his chair, and stood. “I won’t sit here all day and try to convince you of this.”

Dumbledore stroked his bird, smiling to himself when a feather fell from the thick plume. He put the bird back in its cage, staring at the feather with surprising intensity. He met Nico’s eye, his face stoneish, as usual.

“Not two months ago, Miss Chase sat where your friend does, delving into the mind of Lord Voldemort to try and unmask him. And she is brilliant; she saw connections in moments that it took me years to realize. In fact, she only ever asked me one question… which I refused to answer for her. I knew she what she wanted to hear, so I gave it to her - for the good of her mission. I needed her to trust me, trust that I would guide her in the way she expected; but, I cannot pretend I notice nothing. She feared you were like her enemy… I know you are not. You are nothing _like_ Tom Riddle… You _are_ Tom Riddle in every possible likeness.”

Nico took a step forward. “I know, sir. And that’s exactly how I plan to defeat him.”

Dumbledore smiled as he removed his wand from the pocket of his robes. He held it out for Nico, saying, “I give this to you, warrior of Hecate, and assign its allegiance to you. In return, I hope you plan to clear my name in the Ministry.”

Nico took the wand from Dumbledore, a smile slithering across his lips. The shadows spoke to him with the Staff in his hand, faint whispers as all the magic in the room poured into the instrument’s true wielder. With nothing more than a thought, the shadows poured around his arms and legs, circling with such force that wind whipped his hair. When the darkness rescinded, the scrapes on his knees were gone without a trace.

As was every scar on his arm.

“If I get the chance,” Nico promised, staring at the Staff reverence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU COMMENT READ:  
> I know it's a really taboo thing for self-harm victims to hide or get rid of their scars. It promotes shame and closed-doors and never talking about experiences - I know that. The reason Nico healed his scars is NOT because I'm advocating to hide them, but because it's what he would've done. It's one of those moments where the character and the author have two different moral responses, and it would feel cheap if I kept him from doing it just because I had an issue with it. Also, it shows the power of the Staff - healing skinned knees is one thing, but scars not even ambrosia can heal? That's another all together.
> 
> And I WILL address the letter - trust me, it's all coming in due time.
> 
> And Giulia... sadly... is still in Africa. COME BACK GIULIA!
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: “It means it’s impossible to climb, unless you’re Spiderman.”  
> SARA: kay let's assume that nico is 150 pounds okay let me just do this math real quick i'll be back  
> SARA: so it's not technically impossible but it would be difficult if my calculations are correct  
> SARA: which is doubtful because summer  
> LISSY: Ok, but Al's guessing, and... hon, there's no way Nico's above 120. Hell, THAT's a bit high.
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	36. Tables...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations on the prophecy. A table is involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warning: Sexual Themes (non-graphic/not smut, but explicitly sexual*)  
> Word Count: 3029
> 
>  
> 
> *On the Trigger Warning - it's NOT smut... I'm keeping my promise of nothing above "Teen and Up". But, two (or more... no, two) characters engage in sexual acts, though I describe nothing beyond kissing with clothes 100% on. But, it's not even implied... it's pretty obvious. I can't stress this enough - it's not described whatsoever, but, if you're still uncomfortable reading this, message or email me and I can give you the rundown of this chapter's plot so you're not confused later on. My email's lissyxrose@gmail.com
> 
> Also, GIULIA'S BACK! She's happy to be back, and got plenty of beta commentary for us.
> 
>  
> 
> **THE FIC WILL BE ON HIATUS UNTIL AUGUST 14TH**  
> Because I drastically underestimated the workload of an NYU Summer Semester. Sorry guys... this is why I was planning on ending the fic in July before I extended it from 38 chapters to 43...  
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

On Christmas Day, Annabeth Chase finally understood.

Ever since the appearance of Nico’s letter, Percy had been rather distant to Annabeth. He guarded the thing with his life, not letting anyone - even her - read a line. Beyond clarifying that Nico was both safe and helping, and that they were doing the right thing by finishing the horcrux hunt, Percy refused to speak of its content. Instead, he hid in various places around Hogwarts, sat in some corner, and read the words over and over.

The thing was, he didn’t do much else. They contacted Will and Lou to tell them that Nico wrote and was okay, and to change their mission from finding him to hunting down Nagini. Even though the relief on Will’s face was more than obvious, Percy never cracked a joke. He never spoke at all.

As for the horcrux hunt, without the final item, they were stuck. They had no idea of Hecate’s or Hades’ plans for January 1st, nor if the Olympic Council knew or cared. Annabeth prayed to her mom on more than one occasion, asking her to convince Zeus to do something, and to help her with her preventative measures. She urged Percy to do the same, but the most she ever got out of her boyfriend was an unintelligible grunt.

And, though _not_ on Annabeth’s priority list, their relationship? In the early days of the quest, when deadlines were iffy, and they had just one, manageable goal, Percy and she found time together. Nothing too fancy - walks around the lake, broom rides on the Quidditch pitch, finding an empty hallway and… occupying it. Little things. Something. Anything.

Now? Ever since the Solstice, they’d both been so preoccupied with the end of the world that those stupid little moments fell to the wayside. Annabeth knew that had to happen - if they saved the world, they could enjoy a million walks and snowball fights and arguments over whether Athens or Sparta was a better place to live in Ancient Greece. Annabeth missed that, even if she knew it was petty and selfish to. She missed her Seaweed Brain.

At least before the letter arrived, Percy was still _Percy_. As much time he spent moping and mourning Nico, he also spent with her and the others - the jokes, the out-of-nowhere PDA, that stupid laugh and smile when he realized everyone was staring at them. For the last three days, Percy had been a shell of his former self.

Annabeth wasn’t hungry for Christmas dinner. Everyone else had left to eat, leaving Annabeth to review all the notes and think up new horcruxes. She thought back to every memory she’d ever seen of Tom Riddle, but couldn’t think of any object that he might turn. Gryffindor’s Sword? No, according to every horcrux book Blaise gave her (stolen from the Headmaster’s office), no horcrux could kill another horcrux, even if the object itself had the power to. He would never tell another Death Eater of his horcruxes (knocking any living person out), and Nagini was the only animal that he had a strong enough connection with to turn. All the Hogwarts objects? Destroyed. The only artifact from the Gaunts he’d consider worthy of housing his life force? Gone too.

She was so engrossed in her own musings that she didn’t realize Percy had entered the room until he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the table. She put her hands on his waist on instinct and searched his gaze for the unexplainable cloud. And though she saw it, raging in the sea green abyss of his eyes, another emotion overtook the most violent parts of the storm.

Frustration.

His lips crushed hers, showering Annabeth in the kiss she’d almost forgotten. Not the kiss he gave her after destroying the locket, nor any other time she could remember. Though most of her mind was drenched in the impromptu moment - and the mechanics of climbing and lying on a table without letting Percy go - she scanned her memories for any other moment like that one. If none came to mind, how could she recognize the kiss?

 

> “Why do you do that?” Annabeth asked.
> 
> Percy looked up from Nico, his eyebrows knit together. “Do what?"
> 
> “Act like that, with Nico. Like he’s your little brother or something. I mean, I know he’s our friend and all, but you always go the extra mile with him.”
> 
> “I do? Like when?”
> 
> “Like just now, fixing the pillows and stuff. You wouldn’t do that for too many other people.”
> 
> Percy looked back down at Nico, chest rising and falling. He gave a small, warm smile. “I dunno. He is my first cousin, after all. I just feel protective of him, especially 'cause it’s kind of my fault he’s got no mortal family left. Maybe I do think of him as my brother… I just feel like he needs someone, and if that someone’s me, so be it.”
> 
> Annabeth couldn't help but give a smile of her own. She crossed the room, pulled him close, and placed a small kiss on her boyfriend’s lips. “That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard you say. But Bianca’s death wasn’t your fault. And he has Hazel.”
> 
> Percy nodded, drawing Annabeth in a little closer. “I know. But Hazel can’t be here all the time, and Bianca… I promised Nico I’d protect her. When I couldn’t do that, I told Bianca that I’d take care of him.” His eyes moved back to Nico for half a second. “I won’t break that promise. It was practically Bianca’s dying wish.”
> 
> Annabeth understood that. Or, at least, she understood the way that kind of duty felt. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just held her boyfriend close, drinking in the moment. With her head resting on his shoulder, she felt completely and utterly at peace.
> 
> _I love you, seaweed brain._
> 
> Percy lifted her head so she looked him in the eye; in the silence, they exchanged those words. Their lips met, forming a kiss which they’d never quite shared before; someone lit a fire in Annabeth’s stomach, consuming her without any pain. Without ever realizing it, her hands gripped Percy’s shirt and pushed him harder against the motel wall.
> 
> “Annabeth,” Percy breathed, “Annabeth - stop. Not with Nico.”
> 
> Annabeth slackened her grip on his shirt, and tilted her head back up, so their foreheads touched instead of their lips. Both of them were panting; Percy’s eyes were shut tight like he was trying to relive the last minute. They both stood there like that, neither of them strong enough to pull away.
> 
> “I, uh…” Percy mumbled, with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle, “Need a shower…”
> 
> Annabeth shook her head at him with a laugh of her own. “We _are_ on a quest. Find me when our lives are somehow put in mortal danger?”
> 
> “Yeah…” Percy mumbled again, scrambling away from the wall and into the bathroom.

 

Somehow, they’d managed the deed without falling off of the table, though Annabeth’s notes were scattered all over the floor. Percy held her while he slept, his face curled by her chest. She loved him, more than she ever thought possible, she loved him. And as she thought back to that motel room that final August night, she wondered if, somehow, her stupid comment had -

“Athena!” she cried, throwing herself from the table and standing.

Half-asleep, Percy sat up and stared at her. “Wha…?”

“Nothing,” she assured him, sitting back on the table and kissing him as she guided him to lie down again. “Go back to sleep.”

Percy didn’t seem to want to put up much of a fight, but, even so tired that he looked and sounded drunk, he knew when she lied to him. “Talk to me.”

“You first,” Annabeth teased, brushing his hand off her waist. “In fact, I’ll cut you a deal. You sleep now, while I develop my idea, and when you wake up, we’ll exchange information - letter for intuition.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” she crooned, playing with his hair the way she knew he liked. “Now rest.”

It didn’t take long for him to fade back into unconsciousness. Annabeth stood up, slower this time, to keep from waking him again. She glanced around and found a mirror leaned against the corner.

_Thank the gods for Room of Requirement magic._

She hummed as she tidied herself up, brushing her hair back into place with her fingers and fixing her robes so they laid as they should. Beyond the papers on the floor and Percy, asleep and looking like, well, like he _would_ after such an act, her surroundings gave nothing away. She pled to the room not to let in anyone until long after she fixed and spoke to Percy. That would take _way_ too much explaining.

_Can I get the paper without waking Percy up…? No - don’t want to risk it. I think I know the gist of those notes anyway - I can fact-check myself after he wakes up if I have to._

Annabeth grabbed a blank piece of parchment and Riptide from the desk nearby where Percy slept. She tip-toed to the other side of the room before uncapping it, cringing at the _shink!_ as the sword drew forth. Percy was a deep enough sleeper that the noise didn’t wake him, so Annabeth put the cap on the back of the pen-hilt thing, which, as Percy told her, transformed it back into a pen.

_No way in Tartarus I’m using a quill._

She settled on the floor, and began to list everything of relevance; the more she wrote, the more memories popped into her head. She stopped waiting for Percy to wake up, and instead hoped he slept even longer, so she could gather more and more evidence.

After Zeus knows how long, she heard Percy wake and push himself off the table. “Jeez…” he groaned as he made his way to the mirror, flexing his shoulders. “Tables hurt.”

“You’re the one who decided _now_ was the time to remember we have six days left to live.”

Percy turned and flashed her a smile. “ _You’re_ the one who told me to find you when I remembered we have six days left to live.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, though inside her heart and gut were doing the conga. This was the Percy she’d wished for - ever since they’d returned to Hogwarts. “Stop trying to pat down your hair, Seaweed Brain. You need to wet it to get rid of the bedhead.”

Percy made his way across the room, feigning suave, and pulled Annabeth close. “You say I need a shower - care to join me?”

They both let out a laugh, their bodies relaxing into each other. Not a roar or burst, but overwhelmed and blissful and a little scared.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Percy dropped his gaze and wet his lips. “I, um… wow.”

Annabeth laughed again. “Thank you, wow to you too. If the world ends in a week - I meant all that, okay? It’s not the possible apocalypse, it’s… you.”

Percy cracked a small, elated smile. “You too.”

Annabeth pulled away and cleaned the papers on the floor in silence; she felt Percy’s eyes on her back but took her time. Once she arranged them in a neat pile and put them back where they belonged, she turned back to him, leaning on the edge of the table.

“You want to tell me what’s been going on the last few days?” she asked. “Why you’ve been so distant? Why you won’t show anyone that letter? And, what changed that made you go from ignoring me to… that.”

Percy let out the remaining air in his lungs and lowered his head, but said nothing.

“Please, Percy,” Annabeth implored, feeling hot tears bite at her eyes, “I need you to talk to me. I need to understand. The fact is, we have no idea how to stop Hades’ war. In six days, we’re finished. And I am _trying_ to keep my spirits up, _trying_ to pretend to the others that we’ve got this… but I’m so scared. I _need_ you to come back to me, I _need_ you to help me… I can’t do this anymore alone! I miss Nico too, but you can’t shut down like this! If… if you’re just going to mope around with that letter… you can do it at Camp Half-Blood.”

Percy met her eye, not with the understanding she hoped for, but with shock, fear, and even anger. “You just said - ”

“I _know_ what I said, Percy, and I meant that! I love you, I love you, I’ll say it a thousand times! But we’ve got six days left, and I’m not spending those six days waiting around for you to remember you’re my boyfriend! If you’re going to ignore me anyway, if you’re going to shake off all responsibility, you need to face those consequences! And that means we’re over - whether the world ends or not.”

She gasped as the words left her lips, tears pouring down her cheeks. The words she thought she’d never say.

“Now communicate, or I’m breaking up with you.”

Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter. He turned to the fireplace and tossed it inside, watching the black smoke fly into the air. “Most of that, _no one_ can know about, Annabeth, that’s why I’m not showing it to anyone. And they’re not my secrets to tell, not when Nico made it pretty clear that he didn’t want anyone else to know.”

A noise came from Annabeth’s throat, high-pitched and painful. She shut her eyes tight, trying to force the tears down, but pushing out more in the process. She heard Percy’s footsteps get closer, and she wanted to run in the other direction but didn’t have the strength to do so. She felt his strong arms close around her and push her head into his chest.

“I… I’m so sorry, Annabeth. I’ve been in my own world of grief these past few days… I should’ve been more attentive, and I shouldn’t be keeping secrets. If you need to leave me… I understand. But I’m gonna to fight to keep you here. Just tell me how.”

Annabeth lifted her head from his chest, surprised but guiltily pleased to see that he was bawling as much as she was. “Tell me - tell me what you can. That letter - what’s in it that’s doing this to you? Ignoring me, assaulting Harry, giving up…”

“I haven’t given up. I just… needed time. I know, I know, we don’t have time… but, I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Instead of trying to sit at the table, they both sank to the floor, still in each other’s arms. They both sat there, crying and holding each other, letting out all the anguish they never could around the Followers of Hecate.

Percy laughed. “Look at us - I give you my virginity, profess my love, listen to you almost end our relationship, then cry on the floor for no apparent reason.”

“The end of the world, I guess. Emotions run high.”

Percy kissed her hairline, took a deep breath, and started to speak. “Nico’s working for Hecate. He renounced his dad, befriended Alabaster C. Torrington, and got temporary immortality. He said everything Hades thinks or told us is paranoia, and that Hecate’s not a mastermind. And… I don’t know… he sounded so rational… but I saw her in my dream, and she has a way with words. I just… I don’t know who to trust.”

Annabeth stood, grabbed her list from the table, and resumed her position on the floor with Percy. “He’s not brainwashed.”

“Oookaaay… you want to explain that?”

Annabeth handed Percy the list she made and spoke as he read it. “Nico’s been at war with himself for _years_ . What you said back at the motel - you promised Bianca to take care of him. She knew Nico better than any of us - _this_ is what she meant! His fatal flaw - it’s not grudges, it’s the past. Living in the past.”

Percy stared at the list - all the quotes or moments Nico had tried to somehow recapture or relive his past life - scanning it over again and again in disbelief. “I can’t believe I never noticed this…”

“None of us did. At the end of the day, all the gods are good _and_ evil. Hecate’s powers can give Nico what he’s always wanted - the chance to live his nostalgia. We can’t compete with that. All we can do is trust that he won’t put the world at risk, and when we see him again, hope he made the right decisions. It’s not going to help to worry about Nico; he’s a survivor and his own agent. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad… time will tell.”

Percy glanced up from the paper for the first time, staring at Annabeth with a revelation of his own. “No… this isn’t good _or_ bad - it’s the Fates.”

“What do you mean?”

“ ‘The child must reveal his true self in the end’ - the prophecy. This is it! This is what we’re supposed to do! We draw out Riddle - the one thing both gods want - and get all three armies on the same turf. Hecate brings Nico, and he’s going to reveal his true self by choosing a side - Hades, Hecate, or Riddle. Whoever he chooses wins… somehow. Whatever he’s doing with Hecate, it’s going to give him the power to decide this. The ‘weak but powerful army’ is all three, powerful because they all have magic, but weak because Nico’s going to decide the stakes - in which they all have equal claim. We don’t _have_ to figure out their plans, Annabeth! We just have to get Riddle to Hogwarts!”

Annabeth screamed with joy, tears of a happier nature falling from her eyes. She kissed Percy as he had after the locket, too caught up in the ecstasy of the moment to think.

On Christmas Day, Annabeth Chase finally understood. And that understanding gave her the one thing she needed.

Hope is the thing with feathers indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd address the letter...
> 
> Remember - I will likely be posting late for the next months or so, and I might have to miss a week or two.
> 
> And, in celebration of Giulia's return, two beta commentaries this week!
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: "Need a shower..."  
> LISSY: For the record - I was rewatching Code Lyoko (my childhood tbh) and they made a cold shower joke. Yumi's flirting with Géromé and he says, "You should go home - you need a hot bath - or a cold shower! A really cold shower!" And thus I make this joke here. Bc my childhood has a tendency to make WAY more adult jokes, references, and even plotpoints I did not remember.  
> GIULIA: Hahahahahah cold showers  
> SARA: May we never forget Code Lyoko  
> LISSY: Amen. On my list of things to one day adapt for stage and/or screen if I ever get well-known or respected enough to get the rights.
> 
> GIULIA: Do wizard condoms exist? They must exist.  
> GIULIA: What if there's a birth control spell?  
> GIULIA: How dope would that be?  
> LISSY: I think there must be - but I'm not going to address the protection bc idk how that would happen. RoR magic condoms? Some Greek shit? Idk - but Annabeth doesn't get pregnant or anything. Or, maybe she does, but the fic ends in 6 days, at which point she'd still have no idea.  
> GIULIA: hahahaha  
> SARA: Remember that tumblr post?  
> SARA: "Fetus deletus"  
> LISSY: LOL OMFG YES
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	37. In a Girls' Bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico and Alabaster continue their search for the remaining two Artifacts of Thanatos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warning: Graphic Violence, Torture, Death (Implied), Self-Harm, Mental Illness, Cursing  
> Word Count: 2412
> 
>  
> 
> Wow guys! Our final week together! 
> 
> You all have made so many wonderful suggestions for artwork, but, alas, I can't promise you more art because I'm completely broke and Viviana is a commissioned artist. So, since this fanbase is so amazing already, if any of you are artists and you'd like to do some pics for the fic to be posted here, let me know. And, if you read a scene that you were inspired by and want to draw something of it, do so and tell me! I'll post anything fic related up here - pictures, if you want to audiobook or translate a chapter, write a fic based on, inspired by, or in the universe of this fic, analyze anything in it or saw an analysis of something in it... send it to me. The community, not the work, is what I think makes this fic so special, and, with a week left, I really do want to celebrate that.
> 
> If you don't want to leave a comment, here's other ways to reach me:
> 
> Emails: lissyxrose@gmail.com & ninjagirlmai@gmail.com  
> Snapchat: lissy0rose  
> WhatsApp: Melody Rose
> 
> My BBC Mergana fic will be up at a TBD time, but I will make-and-delete a chapter here (per usual by now) when I do have a confirmed date. Until then, I am officially open to prompts! Anything with any couple and any fandom - assume I've seen it, because I probably have. The only things I WILL NOT do are real-life ships (like Dan/Phil or Matt Smith/Karen Gillan) because I find them creepy. I am also not a fan of incest or adult/minor ships. Beyond that... this fic is fucked up enough - hit me.
> 
> Also, if you'd like me to write, edit, beta read, or just toss ideas around with you, I'm totally open to doing that! I am an English and Creative Writing tutor, but I won't charge unless you want me to literally Skype or message you and teach a lesson on writing and things, or if I'm writing something school or work related for you. Fanfiction is fanfiction, and I don't need to be paid to check comma splices in an essay. Again, my email's above if you're interested.
> 
> I will no longer be releasing the script of "A Deadly Game of Chess" online because I have the YouTube video of the staged reading. Maybe, if I get enough requests, I'll let people buy it for like $15-$20 bucks and donate to Kiva.org, but I don't see anyone wanting to pay for that. I will make another announcement here when I get a date for the staged reading, and a link to the YouTube video.  
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

  **____________________NICO____________________**

“In here!” Nico called in a shrill whisper. He ushered Alabaster in a bathroom, then shut the door behind them. “You weren’t seen, were you?”

“No,” Alabaster reassured him. “But the Room of Requirement is a godsdamn war zone. I couldn’t get close to the door without anyone seeing me.”

“ _Di immortalis!”_ Nico cursed. “No ring, then?”

“Nope. Sorry - we’ll have to try again tonight.”

“We don’t have ‘til tonight, Al!” Nico cried. “Two days - we’ve been at this _two days_! We have _no idea_ where the Cloak is, I can _barely_ control the Staff, the day’s almost over, and it’s already December 28th! Seventy-nine hours from now, Hades starts killing, and the world goes to war. We need the Stone, and we need the Cloak, and we need them _right now._ ”

“I know, I know,” Alabaster moaned, pacing the bathroom. “But I don’t see any other - “ He stopped for a second, scanned the room, and turned to Nico with a bewildered expression. “Hey, are we in a girl’s bathroom?”

“Are you serious?!” Nico collapsed to the floor, head in hands. “Gods I want to cut…” Nico didn’t even realize he’d said the latter out loud until Alabaster slid something into his hand. Nico glanced at it - a Sharpie marker. “Al, what in Hades is this?”

“A marker.”

“I can see that.”

“Draw on your arms - it’s supposed to help. You’re doing so well; the longer you go, the less you’ll be in danger of relapsing. You got this.”

“This is ridiculous…” Nico muttered to himself, but he uncapped the marker anyway and started to draw some swirls along his arm. It was more hypnotic than therapeutic, but Teddy was right. It did help. A little.

“What are boys doing in _my_ bathroom?”

That voice knocked Nico from his trance; Teddy, standing above Nico and watching him draw, also jumped. They both glanced towards the door but didn’t see any girl in the doorway.

“I’m behind you! Boys are _so_ insensitive…”

Nico and Alabaster swiveled themselves around to see the ghost of a young girl in a Hogwarts uniform and thick glasses. Her dark, translucent hair was up in pigtails, with fringed bangs and pimples.

“You don’t know who I am?” Nico asked. Most of the ghosts knew his lineage and generally walked on eggshells around him. A ghost insulting him, not even bothering to use his name… that was new. Not bad, but new.

“You’re Nico di Angelo. The bossman’s son. Or ex-son, I suppose.”

Alabaster stepped forward. “Lord Hades knows, then?”

“Oh _yes_ , he knows,” the ghost-girl chortled. “Said such _horrible_ things about Lady Hecate, _doubled_ his armies… Queen Persephone’s death unhinged him quite a bit! He’s _convinced_ Hecate brainwashed you, _convinced_ defeating her will bring you back…” She paused and gave a cock-eyed glance at Nico. “But, you don’t seem brainwashed to me…”

“I’m _not_ ,” Nico grumbled, standing. “Nico di Angelo, servant of Hecate. And you are?”

“Myrtle Warren.”

“Okay then,” Nico muttered to himself, not sure what else to say. That is, until he got his first decent idea in days. “Myrtle, go into the demigod headquarters and grab a ring for me - it’s Marvolo’s ring, big and black. I just need the stone, doesn’t matter if it’s damaged. Got it?”

Myrtle only laughed. “I’m happy where I am, thank you, Nico.”

Those words made Nico’s blood boil. He had three days to clean up a mess his former father made out of hot-headed anger, or people would die. A quest - a supposed _gift_ from his own dad for his sixteenth birthday - had turned into a disaster. Will hated his guts, he couldn’t talk to Percy, the rest of his friends thought he was brainwashed, he couldn’t return to either camp or the Underworld, and he’d had Harry Potter bullying him for _weeks_ without end. He’d been blackmailed, stressed to the point of suicide, beaten, knocked unconscious, tortured with nightmares, forced into a long-distance relationship, and heard Bianca tell him her death was his fault. He had no father, no brother or sister, no boyfriend, no friend, just a friendly face that was nice to him out of convenience. He had been pushed to the brink and absorbed dark magic for too long… and now he had three days left to die.

Suddenly, Tom Marvolo Riddle didn’t seem so arrogant and crazy.

With a flick of the Staff, Myrtle Warren was frozen in Nico’s own personal Body-Bind Curse. He let out a dark and somewhat unhinged laugh, eyeing Myrtle with vindication.

“I may not be Hades’ son anymore,” Nico whispered through gritted teeth, “but I will _always_ be a child of the Underworld. I can snap my fingers and kill you in a thousand painful ways - that’s right, I can cause you pain. I can torture you within an inch of your life if I want to… don’t make me want to. Now - get the ring, and bring it back here.” He snapped his finger, visualizing Myrtle picking up the ring. “You can touch the ring now. Go.”

With a wave of his hand, Myrtle was free. She didn’t look at Nico with fear like he expected, but profound respect. That felt like more of an achievement than terror.

“If one of you’s a Parseltongue, that sink over there has a good cavern to hide out in,” she said. “No one knows about it, but Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter - but Potter never goes in, hasn’t in years, and Voldemort isn’t here, is he?”

“I can open it,” Alabaster assured Nico.

“Got it - thanks, Myrtle. We’re going in; make sure to grab us the ring and give it there. If you find a Cloak of Invisibility, a _powerful_ one, we need that too.”

Myrtle said nothing; she floated from the room, humming a solemn tune like it was “Yankee Doodle.” Nico and Alabaster ran to the sinks Myrtle pointed out; Alabaster did some weird hissing at the faucets, and, just like Myrtle said, it burst open and revealed a stone corridor.

“C’mon,” Alabaster said. “ _Lumos_!”

“I’m going, Dora,” Nico joked, but followed Alabaster into the cavern all the same.

After the climb up the secret passageway less than a week before, the descent into the stone cavern was nothing. Beyond tripping over jagged rocks and avoiding weakened rock fixtures, the walk was straightforward and uneventful. That’s what made the chamber itself all the more spectacular.

Nico stared into a room so big and so tall that he couldn’t see the ceiling nor the far wall; stone pillars made of intertwined serpents stood to support such a roof. A dead Basilisk - a neat project shared between Hecate and Poseidon - was already decaying in the center. Nico sat on one of the Basilisk’s exposed, enormous ribs.

_Actually makes a decent seat. Huh._

“I’ll take first watch for Myrtle,” Alabaster offered. “You need rest, so you can practice with the Staff and Orb when you get it.”

“Make sure to wake me when Myrtle arrives.”

“Swear on the Styx.”

And so Nico laid down to sleep. At first, it was only black - Nico wasn’t even sure if he was asleep yet, or just resting his eyes. But then, the slithering whisper began in the darkness.

“The Ghost King. Nico di Angelo. I never thought I could find an adversary worthy of my attention… but here you are. Here you are.”

Nico tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t.

“Don’t be foolish, boy; I won’t hurt you. The son of death and the man who defies it? What better partnership is there?”

Nico tried to speak, but no voice came.

“You already hate my greatest enemy. You remind me of myself, in my youth. What’s to stop us from revenge on our enemies? Hecate betrayed me; she will betray you too. You know this already - you disowned your father and his name. As did I. His lack of commitment killed your mother. As did mine. We are the same, Nico di Angelo, as you’ve said already.”

Nico tried to shake his head, but nothing happened.

“Ah. But you have morality yet. Foolish… we could’ve been the most powerful in the Wizarding World. You won’t join me of your own free will? Perhaps you need a little… incentive…”

The black finally faded to a forest - the depths of the Forbidden Forest. Will and Lou huddled behind a tree; Lou tried to shoot spells but had terrible aim. Of course she did. A dozen spells of green and red flew past her face every millisecond.

“My Death Eaters are already nearing the castle; we’ve come to reclaim the last of my horcruxes - and you, if you’re so willing.”

“Lou, can’t you, I dunno, freeze time or something?!” Will yelled in frustration. Even such a harsh sound made Nico’s heart pound. Will. His Will. He was alive. He was okay.

“Do you think if I _could_ I _would’ve_ by now?!” Lou shot back.

A spell hit a tree just to their left and started to teeter in their direction. “Lou, get back!” Will screamed, and tackled Lou away just in time. They both laid in the dirt for a moment, panting, Will on top of Lou. “That bought us a bit of running time,” Will continued.

“Thanks, Solace, but I can’t run with you on top of me.”

“Right - sorry, mind’s a little frazzled - ”

“It’s cool. C’mon, we gotta go.”

Lou grabbed Will’s hand, and they both bolted through the trees. A herd of footsteps behind them announced they hadn’t evaded the Death Eaters for long.

“They have the snake, right?” Will asked, his words interspersed with ragged breaths.

“Nagini? Yeah, I saw her - more than once.”

“How do I kill her?”

“You’re going to go in there?! Will, are you insane?!”

“I got a plan, Lou, now tell me how to off the horcrux!”

Lou wrestled a spherical bomb-like contraption out of her rucksack, Celestial Bronze casing with an Imperial Gold button-trigger, webs of Imperial Gold spread from the center button. She whispered something into it, causing all the Imperial Gold to glow as bright as the Celestial Bronze.

“Leo made it for me before we left. Greek fire on the inside - you press the button and throw it, it’ll explode, and the fire’ll chase Nagini until it sets her aflame. She’ll burn alive, and the horcrux with her.”

“Okay,” Will agreed, taking the bomb and hiding in his jacket pocket. “Lou, swear on the Styx you’ll get to Hogwarts no matter what happens. Don’t try and save me.”

“Will! What - ”

“Swear, Lou!” Will screamed. “I’m not important now. The world is. Nico is.” He stared at his feet, scrambling over the terrain with all the training of a half-blood. “Make sure you tell him I love him.” Lou nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. Will dug in his jacket for a small, pull-string bag and tossed it to her. “Rest of the ambrosia and nectar. Get that to Hogwarts; they’ll need it for the final battle.”

They both stopped running. Lou, in full tears now, wrapped him in a bear hug. “I swear,” she whispered in his ear.

Will tossed her one last smile - that same boyish grin that he gave Nico all those months ago in the Hades cabin - and let a few tears of his own fall. “It’s been an honor.”

Lou sprinted off, leaving a cloud of dirt in her wake. Will stood, staring in the direction of the footsteps, holding the bomb in hand. A beam of sunlight, shed from a dying sun on the horizon, engulfed him. When the spells came, they hit the light and died before ever getting close enough to harm him.

“Enough!” Came a woman’s voice. The spells ceased, and the crowd of cloaks parted to reveal Bellatrix Lestrange, in her knotted hair glory. She looked at Will through the sun shield with a kind of grudging respect, though much more prominent on her face was the bloodlust.

“Swear on the River Styx you won’t harm Lou Ellen.”

“Why might I do that, son of Apollo?”

“You any good at legilimency?”

“Second only to the Dark Lord himself!”

“Then look into my mind - look for Nico di Angelo. Trust me; I’m a good person to have on your side for the final battle.”

“You have a shield around you.”

“Won’t affect that kind of spell.”

Bellatrix mumbled an incantation and stared into Will’s eyes with such intensity she seemed to peer straight into his soul. They stood there for minutes on end; when she let herself blink, her face had contorted into a wicked sneer.

“I see,” she mused.

“He’s in love with me. And, more than that, I know a lot about him. I’m a pretty good Occlumens - when I choose to use it, anyway - so I think I’m the best bait you have.”

“Cocky.”

“I know. What Nico likes about me, among other things. Swear on my terms, and I swear in return to let you take me without attempting to resist you or your fellow - Death Eaters, was it?”

Bellatrix’s sneer turned into an all-out evil smile. “I swear.”

Will took a deep breath and pressed the button just before lowering the sun shield, throwing the bomb half a second before Bellatrix grabbed his arm. It exploded, but the fire hit no Death Eater - only Nagini. The snake burned alive under Will’s pleased eye.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed, beyond furious.

Will’s scream pierced Nico’s nightmare worse than any other scream ever had. It was worse than watching Riddle reborn - this time, he was forced, in a full and right mind, to watch the boy he loved suffer and shriek as his body bent at unnatural angles. When it was over, Nico felt like he’d been tortured too.

Will was on his hands and knees, head inches from Bellatrix’s foot.

“Stupid little son of a bitch,” she growled at him.

“Only I get to call Mom that,” Will shot back, voice weakened from the torture. Bellatrix kicked him in the jaw so hard that it broke; that didn’t keep Will from spitting a mixture of spit and blood on the tip of her boots.

“You better be nicer to me, boy,” Bellatrix cooed, kneeling down to meet Will’s eye. “I may have to keep you alive, but I _don’t_ have to keep you sane.”

“Join me, Ghost King,” Riddle’s whisper came again, “Or unspeakable things will happen to the one you love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me, what horrible entity do you consider me? Satan? Kronos? Gaea? Voldemort?
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Only I get to call Mom that  
> SARA: HOT D A M N  
> LISSY: Call the police and the fireman  
> GIULIA: well... fuck  
> LISSY: STAKES HAVE BEEN RAISED
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	38. A Fucked-Up Game of ‘Dayenu’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrtle recovers the final Artifacts of Thanatos with an unlikely source of help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing, Self-Harm (mentioned only), References to Torture and Insanity  
> Word Count: 2180
> 
>  
> 
> Remember to give me prompts for my off-season! Any fandom, any prompt, any couple (or none at all)! My (quite short) list of automatic rejection requirements is in the previous chapter's long-ass notes.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

Nico woke in a cold sweat. Per usual with such traumatic nightmares, he woke up with the stupidest, most irrelevant thought in his head:

_ Huh. So that’s what Death Eaters are. _

“Nico?” Alabaster asked, walking towards him. “Everything all right? Myrtle’s not back yet - it’s only been, like, a half-hour.”

Nico wanted to speak, but he was afraid of what would come out if he opened his mouth. His entire world was collapsing. Everything, everything he’d tried to prevent by breaking up with Will had come to pass in that nightmare. This time worse. Everything he’d ever thought might happen did happen, but, in the real world, they all came with disastrous conditions.

  1. Not only was Will in danger, but he was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.
  2. Not only was he being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, but she threatened to turn him insane.
  3. Not only did she threaten to turn him insane, but without the release of death.
  4. Not only did she plan to keep him on the brink of life, but she planned to use Nico himself as the bait - the thing Will would come to hate and associate with his torment.
  5. Not only did she plan to forge that association, but she’d kill him the moment Nico tried to do anything.
  6. Not only would she kill Will before he could get to him, but Tom Riddle informed him that Will would be spared if he became a Death Eater.
  7. Not only had Tom Riddle given Nico hope, but he would betray him the second he did what Riddle wanted.
  8. Even knowing all that, Nico loved Will too damn much to not fall into the trap and agree anyway.



“Dayenu,” Nico whispered through gritted teeth.

“What?” Alabaster asked.

Nico turned. He hadn’t realized he’d said anything out loud. “Dayenu - it’s a Jewish thing. Will’s mom is Jewish… he took to his house this past spring to show me ‘the other side of his culture’ or whatever. It’s this thing they said when they ate - it was this fancy dinner thing with rules and shit - and they kept saying stuff that ‘would’ve been enough’ and then ‘dayenu’ which I think is Hebrew for ‘it would’ve been enough’ or something… I don’t know…”

He knew he was rambling, but his mind was still running on a hamster wheel. With the images of his dream circling in his mind over and over, it was a miracle he hadn’t broken down yet.

“Just ran over my options in my head,” he continued to Alabaster’s graven face, “Feels like some fucked-up game of ‘dayenu’. Not only this but also this. Would’ve been enough.”

“Nico…” Alabaster walked towards him, sat down on the Basilisk rib, and put a soft hand on his knee. “What’s up?”

Nico took a deep breath.

Exhaled.

Another deep breath.

Exhaled.

Deep breath.

Exhaled.

Deep breath.

Collapsed into hysterical tears.

 

** ____________________HARRY____________________ **

 

_ Two days left. _

When Harry woke on the twenty-ninth, that was all he could think about. Two days until Hades would attack and Hecate would counter. Two days until Lord Voldemort - Tom Riddle - would confront them. Two days left to live, in all likelihood.

How was it that ten days before, Cho Chang had kissed him in the Room of Requirement? That he thought blackmailing Nico was the best way to ‘unmask’ him as the son of a Death Eater? The son of Voldemort? That he thought the world of the Greek Gods were some story taught to him before he came to Hogwarts? That Percy Jackson was manipulating Fred and George into being his friends? That Dumbledore was, somehow, mistaken about letting the Americans into the school? It all seemed so silly to him now. It all seemed to childish.

And it all seemed so wonderful.

The simplicity of it. His fate was in his hands; he was the one with open eyes and the rest were deluded. He, and only he, could enlighten the Wizarding World. He and his friends and the Order of the Phoenix were the protagonists in a simple story of good vs. evil, and there was no way they’d lose because good always wins. Always.

Clusterfuck wasn’t a good enough word for the situation Harry now found himself in. Those ancient stories of vengeful gods and misunderstandings leading to woe were now all too real. There weren’t even any one-hundred-percent bad guys here! Not anymore.

Hades was planning to slaughter millions of innocents, yes, but in a fight he saw as both just and righteous. Hecate might’ve caused this, yes, but, to hear that her children had been suffering for millennia over a curse sent by an ungrateful goddess over an innocent mistake? Now, her people were going to become the next target of genocide by a vengeful god? Who already showed he could not and would not listen to reason! Of course she’d fight back! Even Voldemort had a justifiable, albeit weak, reason - Hecate had revealed herself to him as his great-times-a-million grandmother and offered him complete control of the Wizarding World, then “betrayed him. He needed Nico to ensure what he’d always wanted.

It was so much more complicated now than it ever had been before, and Harry didn’t know how to proceed. He’d yielded his assumed power to Ron, who’d filled the role of leader better than Harry ever could, and helped the demigods any other way he could. Percy knew what he’d done but let him stay and help, which was a relief… at least, relief connected to a double-edged sword.

Percy was always on his back, making him feel like absolute shit. Whenever he was in the Room of Requirement headquarters, he felt that murderous glare send chills up his spine. He knew Percy wouldn’t do anything as long as Harry kept his head down and eyes on his work, but it was still unsettling.

_ Now you know how Nico felt during his entire stay at Hogwarts. _

But, his talk with Sirius kept him from retreating into the shadows of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. With Umbridge somehow still not knowing they were back in school (likely due to Dumbledore’s protection) Harry was having fun (of a sort) again since the end of the previous year. He could practice magic without consequence; he could speak the truth without whispers and threatenings of detention. And he had a purpose again, a goal smaller than “defeat Voldemort” and less impossible than “convince the world he’s back.” Find and destroy the last horcrux. That was easy. That was doable.

And, he had a prize waiting for him if he did things right. Sirius’s adoption.

Just as he climbed out of bed in the empty dorm, the ghost of Moaning Myrtle floated through his wall and stared right at him. Embarrassed that an essential stranger and girl caught him in his pajamas, he scrambled back under his covers with the lightning reflexes of a Quidditch player.

“Myrtle! What are you  _ doing here _ ?!” Harry cried in a loud whisper. “Get out!”

“Well, that’s not very nice,” Myrtle chided in that whiny and distance voice of hers. “I saw you in the bath - at least you’re wearing clothes this time.”

“Myrtle!” Harry cried again, blush seeping up his cheeks. “What do you want?!”

“Nico di Angelo’s at Hogwarts, but I won’t tell you where.”

“What?” Harry asked, astounded. “Why not?”

“Because he told me not to - and he  _ respects  _ me. Never called me ‘Moaning Myrtle,’ not once.”

“Because he doesn’t know that nickname,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“Or because he’s nicer than you and those friends of yours! He sent me to get some things - I don’t want to bring him the wrong items, so I thought you would help me out. But, if you’re too busy sleeping…”

She started to retreat as her voice trailed off.

“No! No!” Harry jumped up and held out a hand to stop her. “Let me help! Just - just don’t tell him I helped you, all right? I don’t think he’d trust me… he doesn’t know, um, how I’ve been… helping… him…”

Even with the overwhelming guilt in his tone, Myrtle turned back and smiled. She reached into a pocket in her ghostly Hogwarts uniform and produced the chipped stone that had once been fastened to Marvolo’s ring. Somehow, the pocket had hidden the opaque stone.

“Is this the stone on Marvolo’s ring?”

“Yes - why does he need it?”

“Don’t ask me; I’m just the messenger…”

“Fine, all right? Myrtle, you said items, so, what else?”

“A powerful cloak. I thought of yours - after all, most cloaks wear off after a few years, but I remember your  _ father  _ using yours just fine, and  _ his  _ before that. Powerful enough to me…”

Under normal circumstances, Harry would never part with is Invisibility Cloak. It was the last thing of his father’s - beyond his looks - that he could remember him by. But the end of the world was coming. If Nico was the only one who could stop it…

“Why does he need it?” Harry asked. Even with the stakes, he wasn’t too willing to give away his father’s final gift.

“I don’t know - I didn’t ask.”

“But… but, did he say - ”

“He seemed  _ quite  _ set on finding it - would’ve choked me to death if I hadn’t agreed to help.”

“But… you’re already dead…”

An indignant noise came from Myrtle’s throat - she was near crying now. “Thank you for the reminder!”

“Sorry!” Harry cried immediately - the last thing he wanted was Myrtle to start moaning and crying loud enough for anyone else to hear. “Nico was really angry when you didn’t want to fetch this for him?”

“Oh, he was  _ furious _ , but not  _ angry _ … mad with worry, I would say…”

_ So it  _ **_is_ ** _ for Olympus… I’m sorry, Dad. _

“Here,” Harry said, standing from his bed. He jogged to his trunk, the pitter-patter of his bare feet filling the room. Under a thin layer of clothes sat the cloak in all its glory. He picked it up and held it out to Myrtle like he was presenting Excalibur.

“Promise you won’t tell di Angelo I had this?”

“Promise.”

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

It was an hour before Nico finally stopped crying. He hadn’t said a word to Alabaster. Only sat there, drawing on his arm, pressing the marker so hard that it bruised his wrist. He wanted to cut too much - would’ve if Alabaster hadn’t immediately apparated his sword and all other sharp objects to the land of I’ll-bring-them-back-when-you’re-calm.

Aka, a dimension only Hecate and her children could access.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alabaster asked when Nico was finally calm enough to listen.

“I can’t,” Nico sobbed. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Okay, Nico. You don’t have to tell me - so long as it doesn’t affect the mission.”

Nico hiccupped. “Not a bit,” he lied.

Did Alabaster believe him? No way. Did he pretend he did to spare Nico any more unneeded grief? Of course.

The two boys just sat there, Nico replaying Will’s capture in his mind. Will was strong enough to resist for two days, right? Of course, Nico had never felt  _ Crucio  _ before, so he didn’t know to what extent the spell sapped the stamina of willpower.

_ Please, please, any god on Olympus or otherwise… let Will survive this sane. Please… Apollo, this is your son! Let him survive this… take my mind instead… I’m begging you… _

That was when Myrtle strolled through the wall and into the cavern.

“I got something for you,” she announced. “Well,  _ two  _ somethings. Told me not to tell you, but Harry verified them for me. Seemed guilty, but eager. Thought I should say something in case he’s  _ tricking  _ you…”

She held out the cracked Orb, and a cloak Nico knew at once were the Robes.

“He told you these were the items?” Alabaster asked, suspicious.

“The stone, yes, but  _ I  _ knew his Invisibility Cloak was the most  _ powerful _ I’ve seen.”

“He’s got to be playing us,” Alabaster decided. “There’s no way in Tartarus - ”

“They’re real,” Nico interrupted. “I’m a child of the Underworld; I can feel it. They’re both real. We have all three Artifacts.” Nico wiped the tears from his cheeks, cleared his throat, and stood. “Thank you, Myrtle. Hecate will know of your help. She will be pleased.”

Myrtle made a pleased “hmmph!” sound and dropped the items into Nico’s waiting arms. She shot Alabaster an arrogant, saucy look of validation, then passed through the wall on the way back to her bathroom.

“What now?” Alabaster asked.

“You train me, like in the dreams. Send a message to Hecate that we’ve got the Artifacts. Have her tell Lou Ellen to destroy the last horcrux - I know there’s only one left, and Percy knows where it is and what to do. Make sure Riddle or one of his Death Eaters intercepts the message - I want Riddle on our doorstep by tomorrow night. Let’s get rid of the secondary villain now, and focus on the bad boys on the day that matters.”

Alabaster nodded. “Suit up. I’ll make sure everything’s ready for tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me, what horrible entity do you consider me? Satan? Kronos? Gaea? Voldemort?
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Collapsed into hysterical tears.  
> SARA: me  
> LISSY: ^^^  
> GIULIA: me on a daily basis tbh
> 
> STORY: Told me not to tell you, but Harry verified them for me.  
> GIULIA: moaning myrtle u lil snitch  
> LISSY: belongs on the Quidditch pitch  
> LISSY: I'm sorry - couldn't resist. I feel like elementary school wizards chant that, tho.  
> GIULA: LMAOOOOOO I BET THEY DID
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	39. Blaise and Hestia Hook Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron ushers in the last piece to the puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: References to Torture and Insanity  
> Word Count: 2105
> 
>    
> You're getting this a bit early tonight because I spent the last ten hours editing "A Deadly Game of Chess" and just want to go to bed. So... you're welcome? I guess?
> 
> I'm open for prompts! Any fandom, any couple (or none at all), any subject. My short will-never-do list is in the Chapter 37 notes. 
> 
> Also... is it bad how much I ship Blaise and Hestia? Like... I basically invented them for this fic, and... ugh it's so bad. Maybe I'll write some one shots of them down the line. Probably not soon though, because God I need a break from this universe (for a short time, anyway).
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________RON____________________**

 

Harry was the last one to arrive.

Ron had woken up early to get something quick to eat before heading back down to the Room of Requirement. In the Common Room, he’d gotten a - for lack of a better word - hologram of a green-eyed girl, with pixie-cut black hair and green tips to match her bright eyes.

“Ron Weasley?” the girl asked. “I’m Lou Ellen, daughter of Hecate? Friends with Percy and Annabeth… they didn’t answer me - I think they’re asleep or something, and Annabeth mentioned you were sort of in charge of the wizards…”

“Yeah - yeah, I know who you are,” Ron assured her. She looked half-dead from exhaustion and was covered in filth. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m in Hogsmeade, and I  _ need _ to get to Hogwarts… um, like, right now. Steal a broom and give me a lift?”

“Uhhhh…” Ron glanced at the notice board in the common room, already full of Umbridge’s decrees. “Sure. Lemme grab Harry’s Firebolt, I’ll, um, just be a few minutes.”

“Thank the gods - I’m in the Three Broomsticks bathroom. Figured it’s the least likely place for the Death Eaters to find me, since they’re all supposed to be in Azkaban or whatever.”

“Wouldn’t want to be seen. Smart.”

Ron waved the image away, and walked back into the boys’ dorms. Harry was still fast asleep, which made it easy to borrow his broom. Ron figured Harry wouldn’t care; Ron was a good flyer and wouldn’t wreck it or anything. He also grabbed a cloak, one Percy had bought a year prior, but left behind when he left his family behind. He’d hemmed it the best he could with some spellotape - it worked much better to repair clothes than broken wands - so it fit him better. The cloak did its job, and hid his Hogwarts uniform. With the hood up, he would look eighteen - or, at least, not like a student - to Umbridge or Filch.

He walked from the common room to the Owlery, broom hidden between his left leg and the wall. He got to the room without incident, which was a miracle, between Peeves, Mrs. Norris, Filch, and Umbridge. The way from the common room to the Room of Requirement wasn’t used during the holiday break, so they never monitored it. The Owlery, on the other hand, was a hubbub of students no matter the day - kids always needed money from their parents, after all.

In the Owlery, Ron called down Hedwig and Pigwidgeon. They both landed on his arms - Hedwig on the left, Pig on the right. “Hey guys,” Ron said, “I need to get to Hogsmeade without Umbridge finding out. Can you guys get a bunch of birds - Hogwarts birds, or owls whose owners aren’t here right now - and convince them to go and get some exercise? Umbridge won’t find a parliament of owls stretching their wings out of the ordinary, and I need cover to get there and back unnoticed.”

Pig flapped and squeaked with excitement; Hedwig nipped his arm in an affectionate sort of way to show she understood. “Thanks, guys,” Ron called as they soared up to where the bulk of the owls sat, hooting away. Within a few minutes, more owls than Ron could count were popping through the open windows. Ron pulled his hood up and fastened his cloak, climbed on Harry’s broom, and kicked off, following them out. Soon he was flying in a cloud of owls, packed so dense that he couldn’t see where he was going.

“Make sure we’re going to Hogsmeade!” Ron called towards the direction of Pig. “I’ll only be a minute, then we can go back!”

After about fifteen minutes of flying, Ron saw the top of the Shrieking Shack. “I’m landing!” Ron called. “I’ll whistle when I’m ready to get back to Hogwarts!”

He heard Pig’s squeak and Hedwig’s hoot of acknowledgment, then broke through the floor of the parliament of owls and landed in front of the Shrieking Shack. The place bustling with families shopping before New Year’s; Ron pulled his cloak tighter and acted like he’d just snuck from his parents, too.

He strolled around, pausing now and again to “window shop” in case any of the adults there worked for the Ministry and would report him to Umbridge. After a few more minutes - somewhere between five and ten - Ron reached the Three Broomsticks. He inched around the building to the girl’s bathroom window and shot red sparks from his wand.

_ Lou’ll get the message. I hope. _

Lou peered out the window a moment later and motioned for Ron to pull down his hood. He did so, giving her a thumb’s up. She whispered something to herself, smiled, and opened the window. “You’re not using a Polyjuice potion,” she affirmed.

“I know that,” Ron replied.

“Well, now  _ I  _ do. Help me out.”

She reached out the window and locked her arms around Ron’s neck. He grabbed under her arms and pulled, his gait awkward from the weight of the seventeen-year-old girl. Soon, she was free of the Three Broomsticks window, and fell to the snowy ground with an  _ ooof! _

“Sorry,” Ron apologized.

“Not your fault - I like my butt cold and wet anyway.”

Ron laughed at the sarcasm, but, nevertheless, picked up on her broken tone. They stared at each other for a moment, debating whether or not Ron should address the elephant.

“A little kid's staring at us,” Lou whispered, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Ron turned to see a young boy, wide-eyed, like Ron had just pulled Lou from her wedding. He grinned at the boy, winking like the whole scene was some elaborate game of super-spy. The boy grinned back, laughing and happy to be a part of the game. Ron put a finger to his smiling lips; the boy nodded and ran off with a gleam in his eye.

“Nice,” Lou grinned at him.

“C’mon, we need to get back - unless you have some weird Hecate magic that’ll let us apparate to Hogwarts.”

“If I did, would I’ve asked you to pick me up?”

“Wow, you’re almost as sarcastic as di Angelo.”

Lou laughed. “I prefer sass. Sarcasm is a tool of sass.”

Ron showed her the broom. “You need help getting on?”

Lou took it from him and climbed on in the driving position. “I bet I can fly better than you can, Ron Weasley.”

Ron climbed on behind her and grabbed her waist. “We’ll see.”

With the cover of the trees and buildings, then got back to the Shrieking Shack. Ron whistled, and the owls returned. They flew among them, but Lou steered like she could see the path ahead. She called orders to the owls, and they obeyed her, twisting and turning like a master Quidditch player until they flew into the owlery in a quarter of the time that same journey had taken Ron.

“Well?” Lou asked, brushing a green bang back into place.

“You win,” Ron conceded. “I take it you want to call a full meeting?”

“That would be nice,” Lou agreed, the worry filling her words yet again.

Ron called down Pig to get everyone - being so tiny, he could hide from the teachers with ease, and get inside tiny cracks in Common Room windows. “Peck on ‘em until they get it right,” Ron instructed him, “And make sure to do it as fast as possible.”

Pig squealed and bolted off again. “Some owl you got there,” Lou said. She wasn't sarcastic.

“Thanks,” Ron answered her. “I’ll show you into the Room of Requirement, I guess. Can you do a Disillusionment Charm or something? Make us invisible? It’s a long way there.”

Lou answered him by casting the spell. Invisibility was nice without the cumbersome cloak, though it was harder to remember to avoid people walking straight into him when he didn’t have such a constant reminder of his invisibility.

They were the first ones in the headquarters, like Ron expected. Lou dissolved the charm immediately and attended their list of horcruxes. “I got the snake, so we can cross that one off. No idea what the final horcrux is, though. Sorry.”

She sounded too matter-of-fact to be sorry; it was more defeated than apologetic. Ron opened his mouth to say something - Will should be there, and he knew what such a tone meant - but he could think of nothing to say. What if Harry or Hermione had perished in front of his own eyes? What words would make that any less horrible? He didn’t know how close Will and Lou were, but if they’d traveled together for so long, they must’ve at least been good friends.

The awkward silence was broken by Blaise and Hestia coming into the room, laughing as they chatted.

“Are you serious?!” Blaise asked Hestia. “You realize how long I’ve been sitting on that?!”

“Now I do,” Hestia laughed. She turned to Ron with a happy but exasperated look. “You know, this about-to-die thing has a silver lining.”

“ ‘Course it does,” Ron said, biting his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. He had a sneaking suspicion what they were talking about. “Blaise finally told you he fancies you, right?”

“Hey!” Blaise cried.

“Yes, he did,” Hestia said with a laugh. “Boys are such idiots sometimes - no offense.”

“We are,” Percy said, entering with Annabeth and Hermione. “What did we do?”

In answer, Hestia grabbed Blaise and kissed him full on the mouth. Everyone cheered, half as a joke. It was a silly moment, like one from the movies, but after eight straight days of apocalypse talk, it felt good to just be silly. It was enough.

“Lou?!” Annabeth exclaimed, ending the moment. Harry still wasn’t there, which made Ron want to keep Annabeth from talking, but there was nothing he could do.

“Hi,” Lou said. “I got… news.”

“Yeah?” Percy asked. “Where’s Will?”

Lou took a deep and shaky breath.

“Oh no…” Hestia whispered under her breath.

“He’s gone?” Hermione asked in a gentle tone.

“Yes,” Lou said, tears falling now. “Not - not dead… but…” Her shaking tears cut her off.

“Calm down,” Annabeth said in a gentle voice, guiding her to the table. They sat together, side by side. “Tell us what happened.”

“We got Nagini,” she said. “But Will had to offer himself up to do it. My - my mom is giving me dreams again, now that I forgave her, after what Percy said. Bellatrix Lestrange has him - she wants to torture him for information on the camps and the Greek world… and use him as bait for Nico. Will knew that would happen… he did it anyway…”

“Oh gods,” Percy breathed, wiping his face with his hands. “Gods, Lou… Will… of course he’s that much of a brave idiot…”

“Tell me about Bellatrix,” Annabeth said to no one in particular. “I need to know what Will’s in for.”

“Not good,” Ron replied. “She tortured our friend’s parents to insanity - it’s what she was locked up in Azkaban for. She won’t listen to anyone or anything but Riddle… she’s completely insane.”

“We’ve got to rescue him,” Percy declared.

“We can’t,” Blaise pointed out. “We’ve got two-and-a-half days left to stop the apocalypse. I met Will a few times, and I know how Nico talked about him… but we can’t save one bloke only for him to die a few hours later in some mass divine warfare.”

“There’s more,” Lou continued. “Message from my mom that Nico gave her. We’re supposed to destroy the last horcrux - Percy should know what and where and how according to her. She didn’t say it, but she was using her magic to make sure Riddle’s followers could eavesdrop on the dream. From what I know of Nico, he knows Will’s in danger and is planning to fight Riddle a day early to get his boyfriend back.”

“Okay…” Annabeth said, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “Um… Percy?”

Everyone stared at Percy Jackson, who looked white as a ghost. “A bit of Nico’s letter…” he started, voice shaky. “The last horcrux… it’s a living - thing - too. But… it, um, it’s blessed so… it has to consent to die.”

“All right?” Ron prompted him to continue, unsure why Percy looked so uncomfortable.

“Percy…” Annabeth walked towards him, took his hand, and squeezed it. “Who?”

“It’s… Harry… Harry Potter…” Percy forced out, shaking, pale as Nearly Headless Nick.

Absolute silence. Ron’s eyes settled, not on Percy, but on a spot just above his head. On the doorway, where a figure stood so still it looked like a Muggle statue.

Harry Potter was the last one to arrive. Perfect timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tune for tomorrow! Prompts! Prompts! Prompts!
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: With some spellotape  
> GIULIA: Ron has attempted to mend far too many things with spellotape hahaha  
> LISSY: Lol yeah  
> SARA: Aesthetic
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	40. Fade to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry comes to terms with his role in the prophecy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Self Harm (mentioned only), Death/Killing  
> WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S)  
> Word Count: 2191
> 
>    
> Hello! Bonjour! Etc. It is I, someone who is not Lissy. Because Lissy is not here. Never fear, it is I! Addison! Who does not have a broken computer. That is what is currently plaguing Lissy. Be sure to post in the comments that ADDISON IS SUPER AWESOME AND HER DOG GENE IS THE BEST EVER! If you do that, great things will happen. I promise. I hope you all have wonderful days. I have not read this story, but it's probably amazing. Because Lissy is amazing. [insert great Irish history pun] DFTBA, MES AMIS!
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________HARRY____________________**

_ The last horcrux… it’s a living thing… it has to consent to die… it’s Harry… Harry Potter… _

Those words rang through Harry’s head over and over again, on a loop like nothing else ever had. This was worse than finding out how Sirius knew his parents, worse than being chosen by the Goblet of Fire, worse than facing Voldemort last June.

Harry didn’t know if he was afraid to die. He’d never thought of death before; even when facing Voldemort, it always seemed like some far-off idea. He’d acted, never thought. Instinct.

No one ran after him. He would return to them to talk about what he’d overheard, but he needed to be by himself; they knew that. He never wanted to be famous. He never wanted to be a hero.

Sirius had asked him what he wanted? He wanted to get out. He wanted to go where he wasn’t defined by his birth. Away from the Dursleys, who tortured him because he was a wizard, dumped on them when they never wanted him. Away from the Wizarding World, which bounced between “the boy who lived” and “the liar who wants attention”. Away from Hogwarts, where Riddle always came after him. Away, away, away.

Where was Hermione’s Time Turner now? To go back and kill Riddle as he planned the murder of his parents… that’s what Harry wanted. He wanted James and Lily Potter to be more than a name and a face that promised a life they’d never given him.

He wanted to take a Polyjuice potion of some random muggle in a huge city like London or New York, so anonymous to muggles and unworthy of a second glance to wizards. He wanted to change his name and his face, to make Sirius do the same, and run to the depths of South America, the fantastical land Harry imagined when his godfather’s letters were delivered by those bright, exotic birds.

He found himself standing outside the gargoyles of Dumbledore’s office. He could guess the password; why not seek out his favorite professor’s advice? Where to go, what to do…

“There isn’t a choice,” the chiding voice of Dumbledore came from inside his head. “No matter where you run, the Greek gods have influence. Hades will find you - will you be safe once he knows the mistakes you made with his son?”

“But Nico’s forgiven me,” Harry pleaded. “He said in his letter - Percy said so. Wouldn’t Hades have better things to worry about?”

“An immortal god?” Dumbledore’s voice asked. “And a vengeful one? This entire situation came from a millennia-old grudge, did it not?”

“But I’ll live,” Harry whispered between sobs. “I’ll be happy, won’t I? Even if it’s only a day?”

“And the Wizarding World will fall,” Dumbledore’s voice answered. “Your friends will die, your classmates will die, this school will die. No more Muggle-borns will learn, and centuries of advancements in magic will be lost. A Dark Age, is that worth your happiness? One boy? Will you not die anyway, if you refuse to accept your fate?”

The question hung in Harry’s mind. Why was he still debating this? As he stood there, outside Dumbledore's office, he remembered what Sirius said to him ten days prior.

> “I… but… you would’ve lied to me? About my parents?”
> 
> “Not lied, but… omitted parts, until you were old enough to understand what happened and could choose for yourself whether to let the world know… I just… think Dumbledore is out of line here… he’s using you as a weapon of a sort… I know Dumbledore's on our side… but children have no place in war.”
> 
> “Sirius? I think I’d have liked to have been your son.”
> 
> Sirius put his arm around Harry’s back, leaned over, and kissed the top of his head.
> 
> “If you and I survive until next year… maybe we can see what it takes to make that happen.”

Harry collapsed on the ground, shaking with violent sobs. He wanted it, he wanted it, he wanted it, he wanted it. But that was a fantasy, as glorious and fake as a life with his parents, or in South America.

“Children have no place in war.”

_ But I haven’t been a child for a long time, Sirius. _

“You know Dumbledore’s manipulating you.”

_ Like you said - a lot of powerful wizards have gotten themselves in trouble by repeating “greater good” in their heads. Doesn’t mean his use of me as a weapon isn’t the best thing for the Wizarding World. Doesn’t mean it isn’t right. _

“It’s not right, Harry.”

_ I’m sorry. I love you. _

Harry never went into the office; instead, he searched for Myrtle’s bathroom. There was only one way she’d both be able to help Nico and say with confidence that Harry would never find him: if Nico was hiding out in the Chamber of Secrets.

“ _ Open. _ ” The word came in a series of hisses.

The journey underground felt like more of a death march than when he rescued Ginny three years earlier. But Harry wasn’t afraid, he was numb. He was a weapon against Voldemort, nothing less, nothing more.

Harry’s first glimpse of Nico di Angelo left him speechless in a mix of fear and awe. He had heard Percy and Annabeth refer to Nico as “the Ghost King” in passing, but, now, watching him spar with a boy Harry knew must be Alabaster C. Torrington, he saw where the nickname came from. This was the son of Lord Hades, a child of the underworld, the man who’d decide history with a snap of the fingers. Was it any wonder Tom Riddle wanted him as an ally? Or Hecate? Or Hades?

“Nico?” Harry called in a feeble voice. Both the boys turned, though Alabaster snarled and started to chant some incantation.

“Hold on, Al!” Nico ordered, putting a hand on his chest. “It’s okay. Harry, come closer - I won’t hurt you - as long as you don’t hurt me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Harry replied in a weak, monotone voice. “You look… terrifying.”

“Thank you.” Nico smirked, and Harry once again saw the boy he’d followed on the Hogwarts Express. Had that only been four months ago? He looked years older now.

“You have to kill me,” Harry said.

Nico opened his mouth and closed it again. “Al?” He turned to his friends on his right. “Go to Dumbledore and let him know we expect Voldemort tomorrow - ” He double checked the time with his iPod; it didn’t look like it had been used in weeks. “Well, tonight... now. Gather some teachers to help cast protective spells - if Umbridge or the Ministry gives you a hard time, just transport them to Ogygia. Calypso won’t mind - she hates that place, hasn’t visited since Leo rescued her.”

Alabaster looked like he wanted to argue, but gave a stiff nod instead. He sprinted from the cavern, turning invisible just before turning the corner out of sight.

“He won’t eavesdrop on us,” Nico assured Harry, walking towards the Basilisk skeleton and settling on one of its ribs. “Even if he did, I’d know. I can sense him, or his shadow, anyway.” He paused, staring at Harry. His eyes carried a glint of challenge and a whole lot of attitude, but both masked some other emotion Harry couldn’t put his finger on. “You coming?”

“Mmhm.” Harry jogged down to the Basilisk and sat beside Nico on one of its ribs. “You don’t hate me?”

“No,” Nico said in an indifferent tone. “Do I like you? No… but I never hated you. Gotten into too much trouble, hating essential strangers over stupid misunderstandings and one, big mistake.”

“That’s… specific.”

“No, that’s how Percy and I met.”

“Oh.”

“Look,” Nico continued in a pointed manner, “I need you. The friend is an enemy - I take it you know the prophecy - and the enemy a friend. It’s about Hades and Hecate - my dad’s enemy is my friend, and who I thought was my friend - my father - is an enemy… but prophecies often have double meanings. Even though I love Alabaster, he - or Teddy, when I met him - was kind of an enemy. Through no fault of his own, but, I mean, his secrecy and mistakes were a major part in bringing this whole thing about. And you… our feud came from how I react to horcruxes - they make me feel this kind of unnaturalness that I sometimes mistake as anger. But from what Percy tells me, you and your friends have been a real help. And I can’t defeat Riddle without your cooperation.”

“You mean consent.”

“I’m sorry, are we having sex? Because I have a…”

Nico forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He reached for a marker and started drawing on an already inky forearm.

“You stopped cutting,” Harry noticed.

“Yeah… it’s not that good of a way to deal with emotional stress.”

It was Harry’s turn to take a deep breath. “I’m sorry for what I did. It was out of ignorance and hatred, and I have no excuse. I’ve been throwing myself into the fight and things as a kind of repentance - ”

“I’m cutting you off right there - pun intended, I guess. No, Harry. I don’t forgive. You drove me to more than one suicide attempt. I’m not mad, I don’t hate you, but - yeah, I’m actually still pretty freaking angry. That isn’t something I’m strong enough to forgive and forget, no matter what you do. And I won’t apologize for saying that.”

“So… you’re just going to be passive aggressive to me forevermore?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay. Got it. No different than usual. I knew there was a minuscule chance of you forgiving me. I just wanted you to know how guilty I feel.”

“Yeah, I don’t care.”

“I know… now…”

They both sat there for a moment in silence. Even though Nico hadn’t forgiven him, Harry felt the weight of their complicated history fall off his shoulders, and he knew Nico did too. It was all out in the open now, for all to see.

“I tracked down your prophecy, the one that gave you that scar. Hecate’s prophecies work in a different way than the Oracle’s, but since Riddle set it in motion fifteen years ago, it does tell the future. And it makes one thing clear - you can’t be alive if Riddle is to die. And due to the love shield your mother put on you in your infancy,  _ you  _ can’t die unless you let me kill you.”

Harry stood from the rib and took a few steps forward. His back was to Nico. “I killed this thing, you know. Twelve. The first time I really battled Riddle - wasn’t acting through anyone else… just him. Thought I was going to die here.” He turned back to Nico. “And I was right.”

He heard Nico stand but didn’t turn around to face him. “I made a vow never to kill mortals a long ago,” Nico told him. “My sister Bianca died, and I felt grief I’ve never felt before. My mom and my grandfather too - I’m an orphan, just like you. Ripped from a time and a life I wanted  _ so  _ much.” He paused, and when he continued, it was in a soft and fretful whisper. “And I miss them. Every time I close my eyes I see one of their faces. I thought I had no fatal flaw… but I was wrong. Everything I’ve ever done… it’s to be with them again, in mind or spirit or… reality.”

“Your true self,” Harry answered, and it wasn’t a question.

“My true self,” Nico repeated. “The terrified Lost Boy. Except my Neverland is a living nightmare.”

Harry turned to him, giving him his final smile, and saying his final words. “You’ll overcome that, I know you will. And when you do… power is nothing more than taking a person’s fears and showing it to them. Nothing more.”

Nico met his brave eye with a terrified one, clutching his staff so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I’ll make sure you spend eternity with your parents in Elysium, Harry.”

One final breath of fresh air.

One final glance at the world.

One final tear down his cheek.

“Damn to Hades!”

Fade to black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tune for tomorrow! Prompts! Prompts! Prompts! Lissy will be back tomorrow. Direct all angry comments to the Tsar. As long as he stays far away from me.
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: With some spellotape  
> GIULIA: Ron has attempted to mend far too many things with spellotape hahaha  
> LISSY: Lol yeah  
> SARA: Aesthetic  
> ADDISON: you should put a dance break in here somewhere  
> (HAHAHA just kidding beta commentary will be edited in soon)
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Super awesome amazing assistant of awesome who you should credit in your comments: Addison  
> Assistant of assistant who you should also credit, even more so than Addison: Gene, the best dog ever  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	41. Sitting in a Room, Without Talking... for 15+ Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demigods prepare for the final battle with Tom Riddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: References to Death/Grief  
> Word Count: 2210
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks again to Addie, who posted yesterday's chapter! I got my computer back literally an hour ago, so I'll update / fix the formatting of yesterday's chapter tomorrow.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by J.K. Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

 

The night of December 29th, nobody slept.

It was the calm before the storm; Annabeth knew that time better than anyone else in the room. How many battles had she fought by Percy’s side? Or on her own, during those years he attended school and she lived at Camp Half-Blood year-round? That feeling, waiting for something to happen, for someone to die… it was far more traumatic than any battle could be.

It was like Alfred Hitchcock's definition of suspense. If four people are locked in a room and find out there’s a bomb ten seconds before it goes off, sure, it’s horrible not being able to do anything, but they never get the time to dread their demise. It never sinks in. When those same people are locked in the same room, but find out about the bomb thirty minutes before it goes off, they have time to search, just to find it five minutes to the slaughter. And they tear it apart, try to defuse it, but realize after just two minutes of work that there’s no hope. Three minutes left now, for them to cry and kiss and scream as they realize they’re about to die.

_ Then… kaboom! _

Annabeth felt like the characters in Hitchcock’s movies now, sitting and waiting to die. She sat in that godsforsaken room, waiting for Harry to reappear, waiting for Nico to send some kind of message from wherever he was, waiting for Chiron or Dumbledore to tell them someone had  _ done  _ something.

They didn’t talk. They didn’t move. Annabeth longed to curl up in Percy’s lap, for no other reason than the comfort of touch, but it would feel too out of place. Not inappropriate, just… not right.

_ December 29th, 2:00 PM - Ron brought Lou Ellen into the Room of Requirement. _

_ December 29th, 3:00 PM - The meeting ends. Harry’s a horcrux. He has to die. _

_ December 29th, 11:00 PM - Everyone starts to lose hope he’s coming back. _

_ December 30th, 12:00 AM - Two days left until the world ends. Forty-eight hours. _

_ December 30th, 3:00 AM - No one has spoken or moved in four hours. _

_ December 30th, 6:00 AM - Oh, look, there’s the sunrise. _

_ December 30th, 8:00 AM - Good gods, I’m acting like this is some spy thriller. _

By noon, Percy and her ADHD finally got the better of them, and they started pacing like mad. No one spoke or did anything that might prepare them… thirty-six hours to die was a lot of time to let the news sink in.

It was at three in the afternoon that something  _ finally  _ happened. There was a knock on the door, hesitant and soft. Percy and Annabeth exchanged a look - was it Harry?

Percy drew Riptide in case of a trick; Annabeth drew her drakon sword, and Ron’s knuckles were white as he gripped the Sword of Gryffindor. Blaise, the biggest one of them, inched towards the door with trepidation.

_ If it’s a bomb, I’d like ten seconds, please. _

Standing in the doorway was the last person Annabeth expected. Pale skin, sunken brown eyes, midnight hair, small but mean stature. He wore a flowing black robe - the bottom of which trailed a foot behind him - and a loose, flowing hood to match. This cloak, though, wasn’t like any other Annabeth had seen - while the bulk of it was solid, the ends curled in neverending, black smoke; even the material itself was wispy, as though it was nothing more than blackened air. There was a Stygian black sword belt around his waist, with a Stygian iron sword hanging from it, on his left side. In his right hand was a staff two-thirds his size, made from twisting elder, knobs of the stuff every few feet, carved to resemble elder berries. What was once Marvolo’s ring was now an orb half the size of Annabeth’s face, latched on top of the staff. It was dark and sinister, forming threstials, hellhounds, griffins, Kindly Ones, and even Cerebus in the pitch-black smoke. A skull ring, its silver hue casting a thin glow, was on the ring finger of his right hand, now grasping the center of the staff.

“Nico…” Blaise breathed, unable to believe his eyes.

“It’s you!” Hestia cried, jumping to her feet. “You’re all right!”

Nico’s glare, so intense under that hood, broke into a warm and genuine smile. “Yeah, Hes, I’m fine. Missed you guys - hey!”

Hestia wrapped him in a bear hug, Blaise joining in after a quick shrug. Nico grunted and wriggled under their combined grip, but couldn’t get off. After a second, he dissolved into shadows, the black smoke crawling just above the floor, and reappeared two feet to Hestia’s left.

“Dude…” Percy said, coming out of his coma of shock. “That is  _ so cool _ .”

“Someone has to compete with your hurricanes,” Nico retorted. “And yes, you can hug me, Perce, just keep it under three seconds, please.”

Percy laughed and pulled Nico into a man-hug, complete with slapping on the back and goofy grins. “Don’t you ever disappear like that again,” Percy threatened, “Mom and Paul went out of their  _ minds _ . I will kill you before you do that to them a second time.”

“Got it,” Nico said. “Annabeth?”

“Hi,” she said. It came out colder than she intended, but she was too angry to care. “Is there a reason you chose now to show up again?”

“Yeah,” Nico said, walking to the table. He definitely noticed her tone of voice, but seemed to understand where it came from. “Alabaster - friend of mine, son of Hecate, he’s been helping me but I don’t want to get into that - is working with the Hogwarts teachers to set up defenses. According to his tracking spell, Riddle should be in the Forbidden Forest by sunset.”

“His forces are already in that forest,” Lou intervened. “They attacked Will and I - ”

“I know,” Nico grimaced. “I had a dream. Riddle took him as bait for me - he wants me to become his ‘second-in-command’ or something… but that’s beside the point. We’ve got, at most, four hours before there’s an all out war at Hogwarts. We have to evacuate the school, warn the teachers, and figure out who’s willing to fight.”

“Do you want either camp’s help?” Annabeth asked.

“No,” Nico said, “The real fight’s coming tomorrow - Hecate versus Hades. They need to protect the camps - there’ll be a million monsters running around, fighting each other. I won’t risk weakening them. We don’t need an army - once I kill Riddle, his Death Eaters won’t be an issue.”

“You’re going to kill Lord Voldemort?” Hermione asked, astounded.

“I have to,” Nico told her. “I know Hades, and I know Hecate. The one thing they both want right now is Riddle dead. Hades still thinks of me as his kid, and they both know I’m serving Hecate. I’m the closest thing those two have to a truce right now - if I take out the one enemy they’ve been fighting over since last June, I’ll get enough clout for them to listen to me. And, hopefully, reason.”

“That’s not going to work,” Annabeth said. “Look, Nico, I get that you think finishing this quest will solve everything - but the quest was a sham. The prophecy doesn’t even mention Riddle! Why do you need ‘clout’ from this to talk to your father?”

“Ex-father,” Nico corrected through gritted teeth. “And I’m killing him for Lady Hecate. That’s a non-issue. And trust me, it’s the ticket I need to get Hades to listen to me - I’ve got a plan for everything when he does. I’m not leaving anything down to chance.”

Annabeth scoffed. “You going to tell us this  _ brilliant  _ plan, O wise Ghost King?”

“A life for a life.”

“No.” Percy vetoed, forcing Nico’s chair around so they looked each other in the eye. “You are  _ not  _ going down that path again.”

“Voldemort’s soul - ”

“Is not enough to bring back Persephone, and you know it.”

“ - is a  _ ticket _ , Percy. My true self… is not going to let me get out of this alive. I kill him - ”

“No.”

“I appease Hecate - ”

“No.”

“She lets me do what I want with my immortality - ”

“Nico - ”

“Stop!” Nico screamed, more violent than expected. “Percy! It’s my life, which means it’s my decision! Ignore your fatal flaw for  _ one second _ . What’s my life compared to the world?! I don’t  _ care  _ anymore, do you get it?! I  _ understand  _ why the Fates took so much from me! I know how bad it hurts when you’re on the other side of death, and I will  _ never  _ let anyone go through what I have. You have Annabeth, Grover, Tyson, your parents, all our friends… even Hades doesn’t deserve to be alone. Let me give him this. Let me go.”

The words hung in the air longer than Annabeth thought anything could. Percy and Nico glared at each other with so much anger, but under all that anger was such a love and fraternity that Annabeth had never seen in her boyfriend’s eyes. He breathed something to Nico, so faint not even she could make it out… but it was easy to guess.

“Nico!”

A boy ran in, judging by Lou’s reaction, this had to be Alabaster C. Torrington. He paid no mind to any of the wizards or demigods - only to Nico.

“Nico - Riddle’s on the move. We’ve got two hours now - Dumbledore needs to talk to you about defenses.”

Nico nodded, then turned to Lou and Ron. “You two go instead - you know this kind of thing better than I do.” He then turned to Annabeth. “And you can direct them - I trust your tactics.”

Annabeth gave a graven nod. “Understood. I’ll draw up a plan and run it by you and Alabaster within the hour.”

_ It’s better than waiting to be blown up, anyway. _

**____________________HERMIONE____________________**

 

Annabeth, Lou, and Ron left to set up defenses. Percy, Blaise and Hestia left to join Professor McGonagall with the evacuation of underage students. Since demigods liked working in threes, that left she, Alabaster, and Nico di Angelo alone in the Room of Requirement.

As long as Hermione got alone time with the two leaders of the quest, she might as well drill them for long overdue answers.

“Harry’s dead,” she said.

She knew it to be true - he wouldn’t have run away, that wasn’t like him. He would’ve come back to offer himself up if he thought it was the noble thing to do. But he knew that Ron and she would do anything to keep him alive - even convince the others that there was some way around his death. Only Nico di Angelo, the ally with the least love for Harry, would do what had to be done without complaint or argument. It was the easiest way - Harry knew that.

“I’m sorry,” Nico whispered.

And yet, it was so hard for Hermione to hear.

“If there was any other way…” Alabaster told her, but he didn’t sound the least bit guilty or grievous.

“I know.” Her voice cracked with the words. “Where’s his - his body?”

“I gave him last rites,” Nico informed her. “The Athenian way - it’s what Hades likes best. Which means I had to burn him.”

“You couldn’t wait to do something like that?!” she screamed, anger boiling in her stomach. “He was my friend! My best friend! And what about Ron? Or Cho Chang, his girlfriend? Or Sirius Black, his godfather? No! Nothing for us! Nothing for them! You just wanted to get rid of him as soon as you could, didn’t you?!”

“I didn’t want his soul to wander,” Nico replied. His teeth were grit, and he had to make an effort to stay calm. “He deserved to be with his parents again. And with the Underworld ready to open its gates, I didn’t want him to get stuck here.”

“Oh, so you were doing it all in his best interest,” Hermione shot back. “Go to hell!”

“Been there many times,” Nico replied in a dry voice, “Not as fun as you’d think.”

Hermione didn’t remember leaving the Room of Requirement, nor entering the Gryffindor Common Room. She didn’t remember curling up on her bed and grabbing Crookshanks and crying into her pillow. She didn’t remember laying there for hours.

She only knew she did because of what happened next.

She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, soft and comforting like Harry’s once was. She turned and saw Ron, already crying, looking down at her with broken but determined eyes. She grabbed him and pulled him into a hug with such force than Crookshanks mewed and bolted from the room.

“Riddle’s half an hour away - we’re heading into the forest,” Ron told her. “I’m doing this for Harry. He would want you to, too.”

Hermione giggled at the awkward end of his sentence, despite not finding it at all funny. Staring at him, knowing she might die, any reservations or doubts she’d once had about her feelings flew out the window. The arguing, the jealousy, it all seemed so petty now.

“I’ll fight with you,” she whispered, leaning in close. “Keep you from making daft mistakes. Like I always do.”

Hermione thought she’d made her expectations of Ron’s kiss impossibly high. Nope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown comes tomorrow! What shall happen? Will Nico meet his end? Did Bellatrix torture Will to insanity? All this and more, in 24 hours! (Maybe...)
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: But it was easy to guess
> 
> (This is 100% Giulia, so I'm formatting it as she formatted her comment)  
> PERCY: I love you bro  
> NICO: I love you too bro  
> PERCY: Bro *wipes tear*  
> NICO: No bromo  
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/insidethemindofadigitalagegirl/)  
> Beta Readers: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com), Giulia  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	42. The Artifacts of Thanatos Kick Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico di Angelo and his allies take on Tom Marvolo Riddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warning: Warfare, Implied Torture, Death/Killing, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Self-Harm (Mentioned Only) WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S)  
> Word Count: 2674
> 
>  
> 
> Two chapters left! So sad! Also, have not gotten to chapter 40 yet, but I shall tomorrow!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

****

The night of December 30th must’ve been freezing, but Nico felt nothing on the little skin exposed to the air. The dark and dense trees of the Forbidden Forest blocked out most of the moon’s rays, making the night just visible. The hilly terrain and rocky cliffs molded the landscape into high grounds and low grounds, caverns and basins and mountains and plains. There were a million places to hide, a million spots to catch the enemy unawares, a million ways to die.

_ My kind of battlefield. _

Nico chose a valley to make his final stand. According to Dumbledore, they were just outside Hogwarts’s protective range, meaning Riddle could get there with ease. The spot was a sixty-foot deep valley, two cliffs of roughly the same size stood about a hundred yards apart.

_ A little taller - they’ll have higher ground. But with the distance and use of magic, it shouldn’t be that much of an issue. _

Nico stood at the top of the cliff, the point of a triangle. To his right was Percy, and his left, Annabeth. Ron, Hermione, Hestia, and Blaise stood in that order behind them, then the various Hogwarts teachers and Order of the Phoenix Members they could get to join them. Lou and Alabaster, working as a double-shot of Hecate hell, had already disappeared into the night.

Nico took a deep breath, and sent a silent prayer to all the gods on Olympus that he was right about what to do. The world was depending on him. Will was depending on him.

“Ron, Hermione, Blaise, Hestia - go.”

“ _ Morsmorde!”  _ They all shouted at the same time. A stream of green light from each of their wands combined in a single point, which shot into the sky. The light zapped a cloud passing overhead, creating the largest and most lasting Dark Mark possible.

_ Well, the Ministry’ll know Riddle’s back now, won’t they? _

“Protect me!” Nico shouted, creating his shadow shield. The black shimmer erupted from the Orb, rather than his hand, forming a bubble around his friends and allies. With a quick point of his left hand, he directed all the shadows to Riddle’s side of the cliff, lying in wait under the millions of ridges and caverns. He wanted to try that spell Alabaster had taught him long ago - to call the Furies to his side - but he wasn’t sure if they’d listen anymore.

“I am impressed, son of Death.”

The voice came, that windy whisper that haunted Nico’s nightmares.

“Show yourself!” Nico commanded. “Only a coward hides from his enemies on the battlefield!”

“You think me a coward, Nico di Angelo?”

A thousand  _ cracks _ like a car backfiring filled the air, echoing around the crevices and valley. In less than a millisecond, as many men and women as the noise promised stood on the opposing cliff. The shadows whispered to him - he couldn’t make out Riddle’s face, but he knew he was scowling. He’d wanted to break the Shadow Shield and Apparate on Nico’s side… but demigod magic was strong than any follower of Hecate’s.

“Behind me is Hogwarts,” Nico announced, “And what’s left of your Horcruxes. Well… shards, I suppose… we discarded the last one about - twelve hours ago?”

“Impossible,” Riddle sneered.

“Eh, not for a demigod - though you did give the three of us a good fight. Really - kudos, that’s one of the hardest quests I’ve ever been on. And I’ve been up against the likes of Gaea and Kronos. Well done.”

A few angry “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ” ’s came from Riddle’s Death Eaters, but they bounced off the Shadow Shield and faded from the air. Riddle put a hand up to stop any further spells. According to the shadows, he’d regained his composure.

_ Not yet, guys - wait for my mark. _

“A compliment, coming from a man who’s seen the likes of gods,” Riddle said, “I could ask no greater comparison.”

“No problem,” Nico replied. “I'm being completely honest here - what we all thought was a one week quest turned into three months. I don’t think even Gaea’s took that long. You would be an honor to your grandparents - Slytherin and Merlin and Lady Hecate… if you  _ did  _ something with your power. Other than parade around and call yourself a god, I mean. Take it from someone who knows - they  _ really  _ don’t like mortals saying they’re an equal. Just ask Arachne.”

“Enough of the games, son of Death. Have you thought about my offer?”

“See, the thing is, the gods are more petty than you might think. The Greeks did everything in their power to keep them from being blown up or turned into a dolphin from one of these guys. It’s a little sick, how many mortals die due to pride - no offense, Olympus!”

Nico paused, to see if Riddle would respond. Nothing - perfect.

“I always wondered about that… why such stupid grudges hurt so many innocent mortals. My own mom died in one of those grudges - Zeus and Hades hate each other, Mom’s caught in the crossfire, and she was blasted to a pulp. Grandad too - or  _ Nonno _ , as I called him. I’m Italian; but I’m sure you got that from my accent.

“Anyway, it took me a long time to figure it out. I had this talk with Harry Potter last night… Well, talk isn't one-hundred percent accurate, since I did end up killing him, but we got some nice conversation in beforehand. He said - I’m paraphrasing - that power comes from fear. And I thought about all the times Kronos or Gaea or someone else like that attacked, and what did Olympus always do? React with fear - closing the gates, leaving Manhattan for Typhon, that kind of thing. And mortals always feared the Greek Gods because of the whole danger of blasting and smiting.

“Then, I thought about my prophecy. I won’t bore you with the exact wording, but I have to reveal my ‘true self’ to save the world. And standing here right now, I will.”

Nico lifted his arms, where the sleeves of his robes fell away.

“See these scars, Tom? I poofed them away when I got the Staff, but I realized that came from fear. So, after I killed Harry, I brought them back. These are my battle scars - they show that fear and weakness that ruled my life for the last six years and counting. But there aren’t any fresh ones now - I haven’t raised a blade to myself in a long time.”

He put his arms back down, and continued.

“My fatal flaw is my family - my real family back in Italy. I’ve played those memories so many times that there’s no way any moment isn’t dripping with too much nostalgia to be real. Hades used it to get me here, Hecate used it to make me serve her, and you’re using it right now to try and control me.

“I am a lost soul. I’m not hero, I’m not a villain, I’m not even that important. I am nothing more than Nico di Angelo, a product of a time long since passed… and I’m okay with that. I was terrified that if I let myself stop grieving, I’d lose Bianca and Mamma and  _ Nonno  _ somehow. So, I fought for my father, for Hecate, for Chiron, for Dumbledore, for you…

“I will finish the promises I made to Lady Hecate, and I will finish my quest for Lord Hades, but I won’t be a pawn of the gods anymore - and I won’t be pawn of you. Harry said it best last night; he said, ‘Power is nothing more than taking a person’s fears and showing it to them.’ Well, Tom, you saw my arms. I fear nothing now - certainly not you.”

The shadows whispered to him. Riddle’s look of confidence fell into another scowl.

_ Three… two... _

“Tom Marvolo Riddle, you will  _ never  _ tempt me again.”

“Break that shield!”

“Mark!”

Percy blew a hurricane into the valley, giving Nico enough time to go behind the lines. There he saw Alabaster with a bloody Bellatrix Lestrange. He heard Lou whispering to Will a few feet behind him, but couldn’t acknowledge his ex-boyfriend. He wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else once he saw Will’s face.

“There a reason you didn’t just kill her?” Nico asked Alabaster.

He shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if you wanted to do it.”

“Eh…” Nico waved the idea away. “Wasn’t she supposed to’ve killed Lupin and Tonks?”

“I’m not Teddy Lupin, Nico.”

“Still - do it for him. You stole his identity, you owe him that much.”

“I’m not even sure if - ”

“Use a rock. She’d be too happy with a magical demise.”

“Got it.”

“Nico!” Nico turned towards the voice just in time for a mess of cinnamon brown curls to hit him in the face. “Sorry!”

He only gaped at Hazel, too shocked to remember to be angry. “Hazel?! I told Annabeth not to bring anyone from the camps here!”

Hazel stared at him with her southern sass, hands on hips and lips in a sarcastic pout. “My brother disappears on me two days before I’m seeing him, and you want me to stay in San Francisco when he predicts his own death? Besides - I know Pluto and Hecate; Rachel and I’ve been watching them. Thought you might want an update.”

“Sure, go ahead. Just make it quick - we are in the middle of a battle; chatting costs lives.”

“Proserpine’s the same as Percy’s dream, and Dad’s on the warpath. Hecate too - they keep going at each other from a distance; we’ve already seen an uptick in monster-on-monster battle. It’s even worse ‘cause Zeus refuses to have a council meeting and support a side. We’ve done what we can to keep a wedge from forming between the Hecate kids and Hades supporters, but there’s a  _ lot  _ of tension in both camps, Jupiter especially, ‘cause of the interparent cohorts.”

“Great - any more good news?”

“Yup. Dad heard that little speech of yours.”

“ _ Di Immortalis! _ ” Nico cursed. “Is as bad as - ”

“Worse. He knows you’re not brainwashed now, and he’s disowned you too, calls you a traitor. He’s beyond reason - he won’t stop the genocide tomorrow, no matter what you do now. Beyond that… I don’t know. Rachel’s giving me this in real time, but she needs more time with Delphi’s spirit.”

_ Against a weak but powerful army the child must reveal his true self in the end. You knew that was Hades’ army… you knew you weren’t just talking to Riddle… you needed to buy time for Will… you needed to reveal yourself… this’ll be good somehow… _

_ Dear Zeus: please make this good somehow. _

“Okay - I think I know what to do. Keep feeding information to Percy, he’s the closest thing I’ve got to a second-in-command. You can’t find me, you talk to him. His word is final - pass on the message. Also, tell him that.”

“Got it.”

Nico gripped the Staff tighter in his hand, and wrapped his other hand around Bianca’s skull ring. He needed all the support he could get - even from his dead sister.

_ “Don’t you remember why I joined the hunters?” _

_ Because you went with Nonno to church, and learned that homosexuality was a sin. And you loved me; you said you needed to change your thinking from gay = sin to gay = normal, and until then, you didn’t want to be around me. You didn’t want to expose me to anything that might be prejudice. You loved me, and you wanted me to love myself, so you forced yourself into a temporary exile. _

_ Thank you. At the end of the day, I guess it was the best thing. _

_ “I know. Go kick some Death Eater butt, mio piccolo angelo.” _

Nico dissolved into the shadows, like Hades could in the Helm of Darkness. Even with such a big risk associated with them, the Artifacts of Thanatos did kick ass.

When he reformed, he stood right behind Tom Riddle. He wasted no time in creating another Shadow Shield bubble, this one opaque and blocking out the world beyond him and Riddle. The descendent of Hecate turned, terror in his eyes. He knew he was about to die. He knew he’d made a mistake by attacking a demigod.

“You will burn in Punishment for your crimes,” Nico told him. “I suggest repentance when you meet the true Lord of the Dead.”

Riddle started to raise his wand. “Av-”

“Damn to Hades!”

The Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard in history, descendent of Hecate fell to the hands of a scrawny sixteen-year-old playing emo dress up.

Nico snapped his fingers, and the shadows started to round up all the Death Eaters. They had express orders - Punishment, or Azkaban and Asphodel, depending on the crimes. Nico dissolved into shadows again, this time to grab Will back behind the lines. He didn’t bother to look at him - he didn’t want to be distracted - so he shadow traveled with the unconscious body to Hagrid’s hut. He wanted Will out of the battle, no longer raging, but not yet dying.

Beyond a bloody gash in his forehead, a broken jaw, and bottom lip so bitten that Will had almost chewed it off, he wasn’t  _ that _ hurt. Nothing Nico couldn’t fix.

“Hey,” Nico whispered to him, brushing some hair off his sweaty forehead. He kissed it, avoiding the gash, and smiled at his boyfriend. “I love you. You’re going to be fine.”

The Orb was already lighting up as the smoky shadows that surrounded Nico were sucked into it. A life for a life… that was how the Underworld always did business. Didn’t matter the instrument. A life for a life.

Just as Nico started to feel weaker, he heard Will say, “Neeks? I’m - ” He coughed up some blood. “Not crazy.”

“Good.” Nico squeezed his eyes together and forced them back open. He wouldn’t deprive himself this one last conversation with the boy he loved. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” Will smiled, though his eyes weren’t yet open. The superficial scrapes and bruises - his lips, his forehead - were closing now, but he was still too weak and pale.

“You stay that way.”

“Yes, Doctor di Angelo.”

“Doctor Neeks to you.”

“You hate that nickname.”

“If I hated it, you’d’ve stopped by now.”

Will opened his eyes and smiled. “I love you, Nico di Angelo.”

Nico nodded, taking a second to swallow the lump in his throat. “I… can’t believe I just heard that. But… I love you too.”

Will leaned in to kiss him. When their lips met, Nico lost himself to the sensation. It wasn’t like any of the other times, with fervor and delight, but the comfortability and nuance of a long-term relationship. A real couple. Why had he once asked Will to keep things a secret? Why had he doubted they’d go all the way? There should’ve never been any such doubt, not with how well they fit together.

When Will pulled away, Nico was slumped against the wall of Hagrid’s hut. His smile turned into tears when he realized why.

“No, no, no - Nico you should’ve let me - ”

“Shhh. I don’t have to listen to that.”

“Nico - ”

“You tell everyone what I did.”

“I will.”

“I’m giving you a new world - don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m happy, Will. I love going out like Lucretia.”

Will only smiled.

“Sing to me?” Nico asked, his voice almost gone. “The lullaby I taught you?”

Nico closed his eyes, drinking in the last sounds he’d ever hear.

_“Fa la ninna, fa la nanna_           **[Go to sleep, go to sleepy]**  
 _Nella braccia della mamma_     **[In the arms of your mother]** **  
** _Fa la ninna bel bambin,_            **[Go to sleep, lovely child,]** **  
** _Fa la nanna bambin bel,_           **[Go to sleepy, child so lovely]** **  
** _Fa la ninna, fa la nanna_          **[Go to sleep, go to sleepy]** **  
** _Nella braccia della mamma.”_    **[In the arms of your mother]**

He just felt Will’s breath against his ear as he whispered, “The Dawn of Zeus, the Suicide of Lucretia, and the Coming of Nico di Angelo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't catch on...  
> NICO DI ANGELO IS DEAD
> 
> NICO  
> IS  
> DEAD
> 
> DEAD
> 
> DEAD
> 
> DEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD
> 
> (have I rubbed enough salt in the wound?)
> 
> (Also, name drop!)  
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: I'm sure you got that from my accent  
> SARA: why is it just hitting me that he has an accent  
> LISSY: because no one writes him with a dialect bc Italian doesn't have one...?
> 
> STORY: the Coming of Nico di Angelo  
> LISSY: Roll Credits ~ Cinema Sins
> 
>    
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	43. Law and Order: Nico di Angelo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico does his best to put a stop to Hades' and Hecate's coming war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences
> 
> Trigger Warning: Threatening/References to Violence  
> Word Count: 2208  
>  
> 
> The final chapter! Well... I'm releasing one last chapter, Chapter 44, tomorrow, with letters from the betas. My letter (currently on CH 37? 38? One of the two) will also be magically transported there. And I'll finally update CH 40 with the beta commentary. Maybe even edit CH 4 - 7 like I said I would back in November, so they don't read like a fifth grader's short story!
> 
> Eh, probably not.
> 
> I'll say my goodbyes over there, as well as answer any last questions ya'll have for me (since the series is over). And respond to the last of the comments - I'm too tired to today. For now, enjoy. It's been an honor.
> 
>    
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

 

Nico didn’t expect to board Charon’s ferry. He knew Hades would grab his soul and pull it to the palace as soon as possible. There were too many ungodly souls on the wrong side of the Underworld, too many to recognize the Artifacts of Thanatos for what they were and attempt to buy or steal them from Nico. It was too risky for Hades to chance.

So, it was no surprise to wake up on the floor of Hades’ Palace, feeling the glare of his ex-father, cold and malicious, on his tingling spine. It wasn’t a surprise that when he stood, he saw Queen Persephone in a golden case-like coffin, with a glass covering encrusted with the bouquets of jewels Hades so famously adorned his wife with. It wasn’t even a surprise that, when he stood, he felt the billowing Robes graze his feet and Staff in his hand and Orb animate again.

It was a surprise, however, that Lady Hecate was standing beside him.

“If I could murder the two of you without also hurting my wife, you both would be nothing more than a smoking spot in my throne room,” Hades snarled. “And I wouldn’t clean the spot - I would mark it with a sign and gate and charge the dead to look at it like the Parthenon.”

“Nico di Angelo is still under my protection,” Hecate countered with as much hatred in her voice, “Or did you forget that among your thousands of curses upon the innocent?”

“You come into my home, you insult my realm - ”

“Only because I do not trust your word to leave my general unharmed.”

“I see no warrior, only a half-baked Titan and her slithering scorpion.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Nico muttered, sarcasm palpable.

Hades whipped his head to Nico; the green fire in his eyes burned hotter than he’d ever seen. “You are no son of mine.”

“Biologically speaking, I am,” Nico continued, knowing he shouldn’t push his luck… but it was too tempting, “But I do agree we never did the whole father-son thing all that well.”

Nico took minuscule steps towards Hades. The sound of each foot hitting the ground echoed off the walls more than Nico remembered it had before. Maybe it was his nerves, maybe it was Hades trying to make the place seem more intimidating.

Soon, he was at the foot of Hades’ throne. He threw a glance back at Hecate; she was fuming with anger that her general would give even this small packet of power to an enemy. But Nico didn’t care what she thought anymore.

He knelt at Hades’ throne.

“Lord Hades, I have done what you asked. Lord Voldemort - Tom Marvolo Riddle - is dead. As my allies at Hogwarts round up the last of his followers, they will be sent either to Punishment or Azkaban at your discretion.”

Nico had always been a warrior, not a speaker, but he knew every word he chose could determine whether the world as he knew it survived. He’d battled enough along the quest - now he had to take a leaflet out of Percy’s guide and try diplomacy. He didn’t have a chance at battling either god and getting away with less that pure obliteration.

“My quest mate Annabeth mentioned something to me, when I was planning the battle that gave you Riddle’s soul; I think you should know what she said. She said, and I’m paraphrasing, that the quest was never about Riddle. And I think I agree with her - here, now, is where most of my prophecy comes true. I’m begging you, Lord Hades, let me speak to you without worrying about becoming a grease spot. And,” he turned to Hecate, “If Lady Hecate could give me the same?”

The longest of minutes passed before Hecate nodded.

“Lord Hades?” Nico asked, turning back to him.

“Fine,” Hades spat. “You have thirty minutes before January first, at which time I declare war. Convince me otherwise before then.”

“The prophecy:   
Three demigods shall travel to the followers of Hecate…    
The monster inside lets the dark one blood see…    
On the brink of destruction, Poseidon and Athena unite…   
The father of blackness has a great insight…   
The friend is an enemy,    
The enemy a friend…   
Against a weak but powerful army,   
The child must reveal his true self in the end…

“Some of the lines are irrelevant now, but most apply here. Lord Hades, you are the dark one, and the prophecy says a monster inside you will shed blood. The monster is your fury, which motivates you into action that will avenge Persephone, sure, but won’t heal her. And, more to the point of the prophecy, your fury at  _ me  _ will lead you to see blood.

“The father of blackness is also you. Just like the line above, our forgiveness of the wizards in England and a united front succeeded to kill Riddle. Your insight is that your pride is the source of your anger, because you know why I renounced you. You need to  _ see _ , Lord Hades, like Queen Persephone hoped you would the minutes before she died.

“You are the friend who is an enemy, because your anger is causing the end of the mortal world. Hecate, once your enemy, is now a friend, because she’s given me the tools to stop such an end.

“As for the army, this is it. Right here, right now, I’m speaking to both of you - Hades and Hecate. Powerful because of your godly abilities, but weak because you’re controlled by anger and spite. I revealed  _ part  _ of my true self to you yesterday, to Riddle, but only the last bit of it will be enough to convince you two to stop.”

Nico stood in silence, waiting for Hades to scream at him or blast him, or for Hecate to shout an incantation and burn him alive. He’d called Hades out on his pride, the one thing sure to push his buttons, and told Hecate point-blank that she’d unknowingly helped the enemy who’d killed her children.

He knew Hecate’s plan - she wanted Persephone alive so she could steal her away and force her to lift the curse. Hades would burst again, and send out the troops without a ten-day warning. He’d lose his credibility and she’d gain the spot on Olympus she’d always wanted.

Justified? Yes. Moral? No. Brilliant? Of course.

But if the quest had taught him one thing, it was that he had to create his own destiny. No more clinging to the past or acting as a pawn for any god or goddess. He wouldn’t wait for some Great Prophecy to forge a change, he’d do it every day, every time he got the chance.

He wouldn’t choose between Hades and Hecate anymore. He is the Ghost King. He chose himself.

“I will heal Queen Persephone with the Artifacts,” Nico declared, “Then give them back to you to dispose of. I gave you Voldemort’s soul, which, combined with my own, will be enough to bring her back.”

“But you’re not dead,” Hecate snarled. “I made you immortal, remember? You’re only done with my bidding  _ when  _ you heal Persephone, not before. I dragged you to the Underworld to fulfill your promise.”

“I am,” Nico replied with false cheer. “And thank you for the reminder, because I was just getting to that, Lady Hecate! Lord Hades, I want my mortal soul - but I mean  _ mortal _ . I meant what I said - I’m  _ not  _ a hero. I’ve always served myself… and that’s the way I’ll always be.

“You told me to be happy during Gaea’s Awakening - Lord Hades,  _ this  _ is how I’ll be the exception. I was happiest with the Jacksons this past school year - a normal kid, with a normal life. It’s what I’ve always wanted. And I can’t have that if I’m always a pawn of the gods. And I will always be a pawn of the gods if I’m a demigod.”

“What are you asking?” Hades asked, though, by his face, he already knew.

“I don’t want to be a demigod anymore. That part of my DNA, that bit of Ichor in my blood, it’s enough - combined with Riddle’s soul - to revive Queen Persephone. But you’re my biological father… I need your blessing.”

“Have I been so terrible a father to you, Nico?”

Nico swallowed hard. “I loved you, Father. But you told me I was a disappointment far more than showing me any kind of affection.  _ Nonno _ , Mamma, Bianca - it’s called unconditional love. I just chose not to fight for yours anymore… but that doesn’t mean you can’t give it to Hazel, or any other child you may sire in the future.”

Hades stared at Nico for a moment, in his gaze all the things he never said. He descended the steps down from his throne slower than usual, burdened by the insight the Fates bestowed upon him. By the time he’d reached Nico, he stood the size of a normal, human adult - maybe a head taller than his son. He put a hand on Nico’s shoulder and closed his eyes; the Orb began to change color from black to gold as Nico felt all the layers of Hecate’s blessing pour out of him.

When he blacked out, he remembered only three things:

  1. The clock on the wall striking midnight.
  2. Queen Persephone taking a gasping breath.
  3. A single tear falling down Hades’ face.



When Nico woke up, he felt odd. It took him a few groggy moments to place it, then he realized - he wasn’t sore. He’d woken up in an  _ actual  _ bed for the first time since he’d fled Camp Half-Blood. He wasn’t sure  _ which  _ bed, but that was answered for him almost the second he wondered it.

“Percy! Sweetheart! It looks like Nico’s waking up!”

“Sally?” Nico asked, his voice cracked and husky.

“Shhh, Nico, dear, you’ve been comatose for almost a week now. Wake up nice and slow, don’t overdo it.”

“Sally?” That was a man’s voice - Paul’s - coming from behind him. “Should I call Will?”

“Yes, Paul, that would be smart. Have Lou teleport him - what did she call it?”

“Apparate?”

“That’s right. Apparate.”

That was how, after a medium-length bath in which Sally Jackson did  _ not  _ see him naked (or, at least, that’s what he’d tell anyone who asked) Nico sat on the Jackson living room couch, all his friends from both camps around him, watching as William A. Solace took his pulse.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“Shhh - Neeks, I’m working.”

“And I’m your sculpture.”

“Yes, now shut up.”

“That wasn’t a question, William!”

“You’re done.” Will took the stethoscope off Nico’s neck, and put his lips where it used to be. “To warm you up,” he smirked as he withdrew. “Just drink a little nectar the next few mornings and you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t.”

“Doctor’s orders, Neeks.”

“No Will - I can’t. I…” Nico stared at his lap; he felt the eyes of the Jacksons, Annabeth, Jason, Leo, Piper, Frank, Hazel, Reyna, Blaise, and Hestia all on his neck. It was overwhelming, to say the least. “I… kind of… gave up my half-blood status?”

“Um… what?” Jason asked after a long, stunned silence.

“Does this mean you’re, like, mortal now?” Leo asked.

“Yeah,” Nico said. “I never liked the life anyway - and it brought Persephone back, and kept Hecate from taking advantage again.”

“She lifted the curse,” Lou informed him. “When she realized all the trouble it caused, she didn’t think it was worth it anymore.”

“And Alabaster?” Nico asked.

A silhouette emerged from an alcove to Lou’s left. Al. “At Camp Jupiter, where they don’t know about my past, and don’t care, since I’m a good fighter. Mom still checks in sometimes, but it’s… going to take some getting used to, but it’s fine.”

“What about you?” Hestia asked. “You saved the world; you deserve  _ some  _ happiness.”

“I’ve got Will,” Nico said, smiling and grabbing his boyfriend’s hand. “And Hazel. And the Jackson’s. I think I’m all good.”

“About that…”

Paul, who’d been standing at the kitchen counter, came around to the couch. He sat beside Nico, so the new mortal was squished between his surrogate father and mother. He produced a folder from his bag, leaning against the foot of the couch.

“We wanted to give you a bit of a present,” Sally said, referencing the folder, “Since we never got around to sending you your sixteenth birthday gift before you left on the quest.”

“Thanks,” Nico said with his usual snark, after he opened it. “Words. To read.”

Everyone laughed… except the three who knew what those words said.

“No rush,” Percy told him, as he read the first line over and over again. “And if you don’t want to…”

Nico stared up at them. He didn’t realize tears were falling until Sally started wiping them away, nor that he’d nodded his head ‘yes’ until Percy had to cover his laugh of delight because so many others had no idea what was going on. He heard questions and squeals and his own name being said by half a dozen different people, but they didn’t matter much. He only read that first line. Seven words. Seven beautiful, perfect, miraculous words.

> For the adoption of  _ Nico di Angelo _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it must be, for so it is written  
> On the doorway to paradise  
> That those who falter and those who fall [to my writing]  
> Must pay the price!
> 
>  
> 
> This week's beta commentary:  
> STORY: Part of my DNA  
> GIULIA: Idea: Rick Riordan teams up with a bunch of geneticists and biologists to release a book detailing the genetic makeup and biological structure of gods and demigods compared to mortals  
> SARA: YES  
> LISSY: PLEASE DO THIS RICKY
> 
>  
> 
> Credits:  
> Author: [Lissy Rose](https://www.facebook.com/lissyrosewrites/)  
> Beta Reader: [Sara](http://icomparemyselftoyou.tumblr.com/), [Giulia](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6748882/)  
> Please comment so I know what you think! See you next week!


	44. Goodbye, My Lovies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters from the author and beta, plus news concerning the future!

A few things I want to get through.

Part 1: My OMG WTF moment  
Part 2: Concerning the Future  
Part 3: Letters from Lissy, Sara, and Giulia  
Part 4: A Deadly Game of Chess Info  
Part 5: BBC Mergana Fic/In the Meantime...  
Part 6: A Pressing Question

* * *

 

**My OMG WTF Moment**

As I write this:

15,000+ views

1000+ comments

700+ Kudos

100+ bookmarks

 

0 trolls, insults, or anything but love.

 

I cannot thank you guys enough. I essentially wrote a novel as I was learning to write at all, and I've never gotten one single trolling comment. Even on chapters 4 - 7 that read like something awful. This speaks volumes to you all.

And I would highly suggest reading the comments to the fic, even if you don't ever reread the fic. A lot of them are various forms of "no you monster crying rn" but a lot of them are intelligent, funny, and really capture what the fanbase was thinking when they didn't have the context to know what was about to happen.

* * *

**Concerning the Future**

I know I shouldn't technically do this, but I made an "announcements" fic that'll take the place of my habitual "announcements chapter to be deleted" thing I keep doing here. I put is as part of this fic's "series" for safe keeping. Please, please, please subscribe to that so you can get updates on what I'm doing - beyond new fics, I do a TON of outside projects and am working on a bunch right now. If you liked this piece, I can assure you - my scripts are 100x better.

* * *

 

**Letters from Lissy, Sara, and Giulia**

My letter is the one I posted below CH 37 - I deleted it there, and reposted here. The other two I got from emails from the betas - who, as I've said before, get far less credit than they deserve. This fic would be 100% dialogue if it weren't for them. I swear to God.

 

**Warning: possible triggering stuff in this section - skip to the next segment if you're sensitive to depression related stuff**

I just wanted to say personally how much of an honor it's been. This is the first fic I've ever written (minus a few ones so embarrassing i orphaned them shortly after writing them), and to get so much support from so many people is... amazing.

I started writing this fic in the winter of 2014, exiting the hospital after a suicide... not attempt, I never hurt myself, but (without getting too graphic) got close enough that one simple action could've end this all. The fic was only meant for me to work out the turmoil I felt through someone I already defined as "the man I'm in love with, despite him being fictional, gay, AND my half-brother". 

I published the first chapter on the 26th of April, 2014, Sara and Fairn beta reading for me, thinking no one but a few would ever see it. I had 35 of the then 37 chapters written, and decided that I might as well publish the story in case it helped others going through what I did. After seven weeks and seven chapters, my computer broke and I headed off to a summer program at UVA. When I got back, I'd lost access to my Google Drive account due to a virus, and had to stop publishing. 

I went to a program at UVA that summer, and, while there, got big news: a musical I'd written, "Living the American Dream," was being considered by a friend of my ex-voice teacher's, who'd casually mentioned it. A few weeks later, I was told they'd put it in pre-production. I remember thinking that the support from this fic - then much smaller, but still larger than anything I'd ever experienced - was the only reason I was confident enough to give them the okay on another working-through-issues work. I'd written it in response to Tumblr finding out I was a religious Jew and bullying me via anon for believing in "the invisible man in the sky" until I had to leave the site. It took me a long time to even admit that happened to anyone... but, because of this, I was able to give up such a personal baby before even admitting my inspiration.

At the end of July, I somehow got access to my drive again, and could keep publishing. But, one of my beta readers, Fairen, could no longer read for me, so I found Giulia and decided to get back to publishing by Thanksgiving (the third Thurs in Nov for my non-American readers). Which I did... except, the Monday after Thanksgiving I got deathly ill with a violent flair up of Ulcerative Colitis. I lost six pounds in a month and was out of school until Christmas, which meant I had to make up five weeks of in-two-APs Junior work over December break. My specialist was a two-hour drive away, and I was hospitalized often during those weeks. I didn't leave the house until New Year's otherwise. This fic and your support became one of my only connections to the outside world.

And now? I'm still struggling with my UC, but obviously I've left the house and I'm no longer super sick, thanks to these infusion injections I get every six weeks or so. "Living the American Dream," now "A Deadly Game of Chess," is having its staged reading between late Oct and Nov, which will be filmed and posted on YouTube - if it gets enough views, my show goes into actual production and I have a career doing what I love. My depression and anxiety - caused by circumstance, rather than a biological factor - is now so faded I'm not even on medication anymore. Because of the work I did on this fic, and LTAD, my writing improved enough to get into a Tisch NYU summer program with a 7.5% acceptance rate.

Everything that's happened to me is because you all have said nothing but support and kindness, and pushed me to be better. In an internet with such horrible discourse, I'm astounded in the best way that I got so lucky with my audience. None of you knew what I was going through, but you offered me exactly what I needed out of the goodness of your hearts.

English doesn't yet have a phrase to explain how I feel.

Gam zu l'Tovah.

Sincerely,

Lissy "Melody" Rose 

 

Hey guys! It's me, Sara the Beta. I've been lurking in the shadows since chapter one of this fic, but i just wanted to say thank you all so much for sticking with it and for supporting Lissy, and through her, me and Giulia. So thank you again and see you all in the next fic Lissy writes (hopefully), assuming you're in that fandom! <3 

 

Yo guys. Giulia here, half of Lissy’s beta team. I’ve had a boatload of fun reading and betaing this story. Working alongside Sara was a blast. You’ll of course recall our top-notch bantz, and I’ve never laughed so hard while reading. And then, of course, the real kudos goes out to Lissy. She’s worked super hard on this awesome story, juggling playwriting and classes, and she was just a great writer to collaborate with. And finally, thanks to you, dear readers, for putting up with tough scheduling and for sticking with this story until the end. In summary, this whole experience was awesome. The story was great, and I know I’m going to go back and read it all from the beginning, just to see how far we’ve all come together. I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I have.

Beta out. Peace.

 

 

 

(Let's not talk about how much longer mine is than their's...)

* * *

**A Deadly Game of Chess Info**

 

So, the reason it took me eight days (I think - longer, maybe?) to post this? I finished the final revision of the script for the show! The lyrics will be finalized by this coming Monday, and we're getting the cast together that afternoon to do our first read-through.

 

Meaning?

THE STAGED READING POSTING ON YOUTUBE IS OFFICIALLY CONFIRMED AND 100% WILL TOTALLY HAPPEN!

We haven't set an exact date yet - somewhere between mid-October and November, though I'll be updating you with an actual time. I do not yet know if ya'll will be able to livestream it, or if I'll just have to post it like a normal video on YouTube and alert you, but that shall also be given as info once I get it.

The show itself is PG-13, rated for (mostly) subtext. I wrote the concept, story, dialogue, and compositions, as well as collaborated with two awesome lyricists with the lyrics and Viviana on the designs. Then, there's my wonderful friend Peyton Sarai, who was my "creative director" bc she was literally the only reason this show stayed on-task and not a fanfic of itself. Other than that, the full credits list will be on the YouTube video. Point is - I basically had my hand in EVERYTHING, so this musical is me as much as the fic is.

And I urge you to check it out if you even had a passing like for this fic - believe it or not, but this fic really was me at my worst. The show is me at (hopefully) my best, which I've spent most of the last five years working on.

Yes. Five years. I was twelve. And I finally did it.

Okay, enough gloating. More info coming - stay tuned. Since I don't have a cover (yet) I'll just have to leave you with the title and tagline:

A Deadly Game of Chess  
_When midnight comes, it comes as a blessing_

 

If I told you I was also playing a character in it, forcing you to see me act, hear me speak, and listen to me sing, would that be an incentive?

 

* * *

**BBC Mergana Fic / In the Meantime...**

Here's all the info I have on the BBC Mergana fic:

  * There will be 70 chapters, each written as a season with 14 "episodes" in it.
  * Each chapter will be based around an episode of BBC Merlin, except one that's all my own to further my own fanfic plot.
  * The fic will NOT have the exact same plot as the show - it starts out the same, but goes in a completely different direction within the first few chapters.
  * It's written so, if you've never seen BBC Merlin or don't remember it, you'll 100% understand and (hopefully) enjoy the fic. You do not have to be a fan of the show to read. (Although, there MAY be some spoilers - but not too many, since it takes a complete turn early on. Also, like, the King Arthur legend.)
  * Will be rated "M" because of sexy-times, however, those sexy-times will be marked and skip-able.
  * It's NOT, I repeat, NOT dependent that you like Merlin/Morgana to read it. Mergana is a little more involved in it than solangelo, but not by much. If you could handle solangelo here, you'll be able to read the fic without throwing up. They're not the center... well... you'll see.



I will be posting twice a week (Sundays and Thursdays) with a two-week break (so, four skips) between "seasons" (every 14 episodes) so my betas can get as much of a head start as needed on the coming chapters.

Oh, yeah - Sara and Giulia are (most likely) going to beta this, too!

Posting will start sometime in the winter - Between January and March, as of right now (I've been saying March bc I'm not sure yet) because I have a Jan 1st deadline on college stuff. I've already started rewatching Merlin and planning this out, though, so I'll give you more info as to when I'll start posting. Like with this fic, I won't start posting until I have all 70 chapters completed.

In the meantime, I'm open to prompts! I've only gotten one prompt so far, so PLEASE send me some! Comment below, or use the email plastered all over this fic, plus on my profile. I don't have a schedule for prompts, but I'll do them as I get around to them. And I'll tell you ahead of time if I'm doing yours or not.

If you want to make sure you get any work I do, please make sure to subscribe to ME on my PROFILE! Just click on my icon, and you'll see the button on the top righthand corner to subscribe, so you'll be notified whenever I post anything. Neat little trick I'm not sure how many people know about.

* * *

 

**A Pressing Question**

I'm done with actual news now, so you can skip this if you want.

Question...

If I write an R-rated, comedic, straight-play (no music at all) based on a book surrounding the Adams' (John and Abigail) is that ripping off "Hamilton"?

Because I got this idea MONTHS before I ever saw/watched/heard of Hamilton - I think it was off-Broadway at that point. I had to read a historical-factual book for APUSH, and so I picked up this random one that GoodReads said was short, sweet, and funny.

And boy, was it ever.

It's a collection of letters between the couple, and the author's (Professor Joseph J. Ellis)... shall we say, "interpretation" of them. It's mostly amazing because he tries SO HARD to sound mature and respectable while writing what this complete and utter... there's no other way to say it - promiscuous - couple did during their 50+ years of marriage. Which opens up wonder paragraphs like this:

Context: the early days of their courtship. Abigail's 18, John's 27.

> But talk by itself was not sufficient to explain their mutual attraction. The letters that began to flow back and forth between them late in 1761 contain some explicit expressions of powerful physical and sexual urges, so that the picture that emerges depicts two young lovers conversing about Shakespeare's sonnets or Molière's plays in between long and multiple kisses, passionate embraces, and mutual caresses. Their grandson Charles Francis Adams, who published the first comprehensive edition of their correspondence nearly a century later, was either too embarrased or too much a prisoner of Victorian mores to include any of their courtship correspondence. Here is a sample of what he chose to censor.
> 
> John to Abigail, addressed to "Miss Adorable":  
>  _By the same token that the bearer hereof [JA] satt up with you last night, I hereby order you to give him, as many kisses, and as many Hours of your company after nine o'clock as he pleases to demand, and charge them to my account._

Translation: So, John and Abigail were horny-ass motherfuckers whose favorite passtimes included making out while discussing Shakespeare (and I do mean WHILE), having premarital sex with a reverend's daughter in his bed because he disliked John and hey it was Abigail's idea don't judge me!, and playing: how many paragraphs does it take to thinly veil my making fun of your penis size, John? Three? Okay.

He calls her "Miss Adorable". And coined the turn "saucy" in its modern use to refer to her. 'Nuff said.

And we've got 50+ (54? 56?) years of this, people. Plus the DRAMA which I shall not go into because this is long enough already... but let's just say there was a very specific reason John called Hamilton "Creole bastard" just after he gained the Presidency. And he was blowing off steam, which he then took out on Hamilton because POC = 18th century punching bag. Why was he so mad he'd fire the smartest guy on his staff for no reason? You shall see...

Also, Abigail puts his final words into a whole new light.

Don't know where/if I'll release this yet, but I want to blow off steam between "A Deadly Game of Chess" and my next serious musical, which is lookin' like it's gonna be surrounding the Israeli/Palestine conflict. Which... yeah, I need a breather before I get into THAT pile of steaming... research.

(Deadly Game surrounds the Dublin Rising and Holocaust btw, because I apparently enjoy depressing moments in history? I don't know...)

Do you think this is different enough? Hamilton won't even be a character - a punchline to this one argument John and Thomas Jefferson have when they're in their 80's and shit - but he's not really important to this relationship or life. And it's basically going to be making fun of how modern Abigail and John really were, and how beat upon John got from that. Like... dude, he loved his wife. Chill. I know this is the 18th century and NO ONE loves their spouse - okay, okay, I get affairs are where you're supposed to have passion - just shut up Jefferson! Shut up!

Just tell me if I can do this or if I have to sit on this for a few more years.

 

'Tis been a fine ride, and I hope you join me for the next one! Please remember to subscribe to my profile and the announcements fic, as well as give me prompts to write down in the comments below! And, should I write my Jabigail (please come up with a better ship name) play?

See ya'll in the next few weeks! Goodbye, my lovies!


	45. The Unspecified Holiday Party on December 18th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ONE SHOT
> 
> Six months after the Wizard Genocide ends, Nico experiences his first holiday with the Jacksons.  
> (I didn't make this strictly Christmas because I'm a Jew who doesn't know how to Christmas.)
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS  
> HAPPY CHANUKAH  
> GOOD KWANZA  
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally released this as a one-shot, but no one found it so I'm releasing it here. For now on, I'll just release the additional one-shot content here, where everyone's actually subscribed. I put it in the summary--chapters 44 and beyond are one-shot additional content.
> 
> So, without further ado, from this point forward I just copy-and-pasted from the old work!
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: Cursing, VERY Mild Innuendo, References to Self-harm and Suicide  
> Word Count: 4654
> 
>  
> 
> Hi guys! So, by BBC Mergana fic is taking me longer to write than I expected (read: college sucked up all my time but I’m accepted or pending on everything now so I can finally write some godsdamn fics), so I typed up this one-shot to give you something. This one-shot is actually longer than most of the chapters in the main fic because this is the length most of the BBC Mergana fic's chapters will be. Let me know below if this is a good size, or if it's too much.
> 
> Also, I didn't have anyone beta read this, since it's Christmas and Sara and Giulia have more important things to do. So, if this isn't up to my usual caliber, that's why.
> 
> It’s winter-themed, but not necessarily Christmas because I’m a Jew and I don’t know how Christmas worked outside of Disney sitcom specials.
> 
> If you haven’t read The Coming of Nico di Angelo, you can still totally read this but you might not understand everything. Warning though: you’ll spoil a LOT of the plot twists for yourself by reading this first.
> 
> Takes place the December after the final chapter of The Coming of Nico di Angelo.
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________NICO____________________**

“Fuck finals, fuck finals, fuck them, fuck them, fuck them,” Nico muttered under his breath as he poured milk into some cornflakes. “Fuck snow, fuck finals, fuck everything.”

Of course a blizzard had to hit New York the final day before winter break, rendering schools closed and his English Composition final to January 3rd. Instead of catching up with Percy, Will, Alabaster, Hazel, and everyone else coming over for the holidays, he’d be in his room. Studying.

“Did your cereal try to attack you?” Paul asked, chuckling as he watched Nico stab his breakfast with a tablespoon.

“Snow day today. I’m gonna spend the whole break studying for English Comp--and by studying I mean throwing my notes at the wall and debating if a withdrawal-fail is better than an F.”

Paul chuckled again and ruffled Nico’s hair as crossed to the coffee pot and poured two cups. “Your mom and I can help you, you know.” He passed one mug to Nico, then mixed some sugar in the other. “She just so happens to be a writer. And, I was a pretty good English teacher way back when.”

Paul sat opposite Nico at the table and took a long _slurp_ , eyeing Nico with a humorous glint. Nico rolled his eyes, as he always did when Sally or Paul referred to themselves as his Mom or Dad. No matter how many times he gave them attitude, they refused to stop it--though, Nico didn’t ever really put up that much of a fight. He secretly liked it, even if he couldn’t call them _that_ just yet.

“It’s not something I can really study for,” Nico explained, “It’s just reading some passage Miss Borieo digs up, and writing about the ‘rhetorical devices’ in it. Even if I manage to memorize all the different types… you know I won’t be able to write a decent essay in ninety minutes! I just wanted to get this over with and get ready for the party tonight. Is that too much to ask?!”

“Here--” Paul checked his watch. “Percy should be home from Camp Half-blood with those people around three, give or take traffic, and the California and England flights should be in by one unless something got delayed. So… I’d bank on four o’clock as the final deadline for the party. It’s almost ten. Make sure you’re dressed in a half-hour, okay? I’ll help you with the final.”

“It’s no use; I’m gonna fail.”

“Humor me, then.”

Nico let out a long, fake, sarcastic sigh. “Fiiiiiine. Ten-thirty it is.”

 

**____________________HERMIONE____________________**

“Hermione! Wait up!”

Hermione turned, surprised anyone would recognize her at King’s Cross. Most of the students didn’t get out for another two days, but her parents pulled her out a bit early so they could start their annual skiing vacation. Ron was grumbling about her being away during their first Christmas as a couple, so she’d bargained with her parents to start and end the week in New Hampshire early so she could spend New Year’s with the Weasleys.

“Hestia! Blaise! What are you two doing here?” Hermione cried. She’d barely talked to the Slytherins since the previous year, but they’d always had pleasant words for each other on the semi-rare occasions they were working together in Potions or Care of Magical Creatures.

“We’re going to New York for the weekend, to see Nico,” Blaise explained. “They’re having this party tomorrow. And… uh…”

Hestia laughed at Blaise’s awkward stumbling. “We’re both purebloods and don’t know how planes work. Professor Snape said you’re on our flight?”

“Layover at JFK, yeah.” Hermione smiled in understanding. “Sure, I’ll help you. Here, we need to catch the tube to Heathrow. C’mon.”

 

**____________________NICO____________________**

Nico sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Paul with his English Composition notes. Even if he was still annoyed and frustrated about the timing of everything, it at least comforted him to know that Paul would help him. That way, when he bombed the test, no one could say he hadn’t studied hard enough.

Paul came out of his room with a few pieces of paper, a couple of pens, and his laptop. He sat down next to Nico and placed it in front of him with a smile.

“I emailed Miss Borieo. She was more than happy to give you the prompt now, so you’ll have more time to write the essay. And, she even offered to let you have the list of rhetorical devices and their definitions with you when you write it. She said the final’s about applying what you know, not just base memorization. The rest of the class already knows these well enough that they shouldn’t have to study over the break, according to her.”

“Wait, seriously?!” Nico’s spirits lifted. “How did you do that?”

“I asked.” Nico stifled laughter; Paul sounded so done with him. “It took your mom and I a lot of shouting to get you accommodations for your dyslexia and ADHD. Maybe you should use them every once in a while?”

“Okay, okay, I suck at asking people stuff, I get it.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Paul gave Nico the papers--the passage, and the prompt--and opened up his laptop. “We’re going to read this out loud, together. Take notes in your journal--Greek, Latin, Italian, I don’t care--then, you’re going to dictate this essay to me and I’m going to type it up word-for-word. Then, we can edit it together and send it off before everyone arrives. Get it over with.”

Nico nodded. It was nice having someone looking out for him.

 

**____________________HERMIONE____________________**

“This is so cool!” Hermione had heard Blaise and Hestia say versions of that every five minutes for the last hour. The tube, metal detector, baggage check, ticket scanner, ATM, frozen yogurt machines… it was adorable, really, like toddlers traveling for the first time.

Now, they were officially in the sky; Hermione was able to trade seats with a charming old man so she could stay with the other wizards. Hestia, sitting by the window, was staring out at London from the clouds.

“Blaise, look!” she squealed. “The cars are _tiny_!”

Blaise peered through the window, sticking out his neck so he could see past Hestia’s head. His eyes widened with child-like delight.

 _“You may now use electronic devices,”_ a cool, female voice announced.

“Look at this,” Hermione said, grinning in anticipation for their reaction. “Look at this.” She plugged their tiny airplane headphones into the headphone jack on the back of the seat and turned it on. Through the headphones, Hermione could hear, _“You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel. You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel. Mr. Grinch.”_

“Whoa,” Blaise whispered.

“This is a classic,” Hermione said with a laugh. “Probably cheap to get, and ‘tis the season.”

“What is it?” Blaise asked.

“The device is called a ‘television.’ ...well, kind of. It’s an airplane-version of a tele. And those black things? Put them on your ears. They’re called headphones; they give you the sound that matches the television’s visuals.”

They both did so eagerly. “This is awesome!” Blaise cried. “It’s like a book, but in front of your face!”

“So, a play,” Hestia teased him. “But like a portable play.”

“About right,” Hermione answered. “The story’s about that green guy--see him, there? He’s going to try and steal Christmas from a nearby town by dressing up as Santa Claus and taking all the presents and things.”

Soon, Hermione was watching the movie just as earnestly as them, whispering commentary, laughing at the others’, and getting the occasional “shush!” from some business suit behind them.

 

**____________________PERCY____________________**

“Well, Merry Christmas, big guy,” Percy waved good-bye to Tyson over the IM. “Tell Dad that too, okay? And Ella?”

“Merry Christmas for Daddy and Ella from Percy! I will!”

“Not that he celebrates Christmas, being a pagan god and all… at least, I don’t _think_ he--whatever. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye-bye!”

The light from the IM faded, leaving the once-again-abandoned Poseidon cabin as empty and depressing as ever. Percy hurried back into the bright flurry of snow; that uneasiness he developed for his old cabin after Hogwarts never really went away. He went to the Zeus cabin, shouting, “Jason? Are you packed yet? We need to hit the road if--aw, gross!”

He’d walked in on Jason and Piper… kissing was probably the best word, but a fair amount of clothes was already on the ground. Percy shielded his eyes. “Are you serious, Grace?! Piper?! I said we had to _hurry_. This. Is not. Hurrying! This is the _opposite_ of hurrying!”

“We’re both done packing,” Piper remarked. It was amazing how unphased she was about being walked in on in a bra and not much else. Part of the Aphrodite cabin, Percy guessed; she never seemed too fussed about walking in on or being walked in on during stuff like that.

“So you were just, what, killing time?!”

“Yes,” Piper answered. “You can open your eyes now. We’re decent.”

Jason was somehow red and pale from embarrassment at the same time. Percy assumed he didn’t look much better himself. “Car leaves in twenty minutes. Please get your bags in my trunk before then. And… just do everyone a favor, and don’t do--that--while you’re staying at my parents' house?”

“Deal.” Piper smiled in amusement. “I know Will finished too; he’s hounding Leo back in the Hermes cabin to get a move on. I think Calypso was threatening just to pack for him last time I was there.” Piper bit her lip, obviously stifling laughter, then said, “you might want to pass on the ‘what not to do at my parents’ house’ speech to Mr. Brown-Pre-med-Son-of-Apollo.”

“Oh my gods… that’s my _brother_ Piper!” Percy groaned. “I’m leaving before you spit on my innocence anymore.”

“What innocence?” Piper teased.

“Exactly! It’s precious!” With that, Percy was on his way to the Hermes cabin.

 

**____________________ANNABETH____________________**

“That was _terrifying_ ,” Alabaster complained to Hazel as they exited the plane terminal. “I should’ve followed Percy when he took the train last week.”

“And gone where?” Frank reminded him. “You’re not exactly welcome at Camp Half-Blood.”

“Paul and Sally’s?” Reyna contributed.

“Not with finals week,” Annabeth answered, grimacing at the old memories. “Nico must be going through absolute shit right now, waiting for grades to come in. I don’t think Ms. Jackson would’ve wanted the twin-terrors together again when he’s already so unmotivated to study.”

“You would’ve gone crazy on the train,” Frank added. “Besides, it’s not like you have to worry about Zeus blasting _you_ out of the sky.”

“I just don’t like heights, okay?”

“Of course, Al,” Hazel reassured him. “Frank, be nice.”

“Tough chance,” Alabaster said with a teasing smirk.

Ever since joining Camp Jupiter, Al had found an unlikely friendship with the son of Mars, easily becoming the camp’s greatest tactician, even arranging new war games and new training practices that made the legion deadlier than ever. He worked closely with Frank and Reyna now and was so brilliant that, after a while, even Reyna started to let herself befriend him. He sort of took Annabeth’s place in that respect, using Nico to relay his ideas back to Camp Half-blood. It was a bit sneakier than Annabeth would’ve liked, but there was no way most of the camp would listen to Al after his actions in Kronos’s Army and the Wizard Genocide, and his ideas were too clever to reject due to mere prejudice, even justified prejudice. It gave Nico an excuse to come to camp on the regular, and he always put enough of a signature Ghost King flair to Al’s ideas that no one ever caught on.

He came up to New York at every chance he got; while those two never said _everything_ that happened during the Wizard Genocide, Annabeth knew enough to know that it was a version of her and Percy’s pre-romance friendship.

_When everyone tries to kill you, you get real close real quick._

The two were inseparable whenever they were on the same side of the country; and, whenever they got together, monsters somehow managed to attack. While not a demigod anymore, Nico could still see through the Mist and had his Stygian Iron sword and skill intact. It was more dangerous for Nico to fight monsters when he couldn’t be healed by magical means, but he was usually good enough to keep from getting more than a scratch. The few times he hadn’t escaped unscathed… well, that’s how they got their nickname: twin terrors.

“Annabeth!” Blaise, Hestia, and Hermione were waiting outside the terminal.

She let Hestia hug her, then smiled at Blaise. “Hi, guys! Hermione? What are you doing here?”

“I’m headed up to New Hampshire. My uncle has a skiing cabin; it’s kind of a tradition. My flight’s delayed until the snow passes, though. The storm headed up north, so I’m stuck here for another few hours. I thought I’d pass these two on to you--they don’t have… any experience in the Muggle world, really.”

Annabeth laughed. “Well, Merry Christmas! Say hello to Ron for me!”

“Merry Christmas!” Annabeth noticed a faint hollowness in Hermione’s words.

_It’s her first Christmas without Harry._

They met each other’s eyes, thinking the same thing. Annabeth knew from experience the last thing she’d want was pity, so she didn’t smile or try to reassure her. The look was solace enough.

“Kids! Over here!” Sally’s voice came ringing from the luggage claim. Hestia, Blaise, Hazel, Frank, and Al all ran to greet her, but Annabeth didn’t feel right to leave Hermione alone.

Reyna walked up to her. “It’s in my bag. I thought we could pass it on through those Followers of Hecate.” The murmur was inaudible to Hermione, who’d already started walking back to her terminal.

“Hermione!” Annabeth called. “Hold on--I have something to give you!”

She mouthed ‘you’re amazing’ to Reyna, and ran to Reyna’s suitcase. “Hi, Sally,” she heaved as she rummaged through the pockets. “Sorry--one second.”

“Annabeth…?”

“Reyna brought something for me--got it! Sorry, hold on.”

She ran back to Hermione and gave her a box. “Al kind of held onto this after… you know. We didn’t want to send it back through the mail, but no one was ever going to Hogwarts, so…” Hermione opened the box, to find the Marauder’s Map, Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, and his old wand. Her eyes welled up with tears. “Merry Christmas,” Annabeth wished her again. “I mean it. Ron, too.”

“Thank you…” Hermione managed between her tears.

 

**____________________PERCY____________________**

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!” Leo shouted the moment he stepped into the apartment.

“Neighbors, Leo!” Jason berated him.

Calypso chuckled. “Is it big enough in here for everyone to spend the night?”

“Oh, sure,” Percy reassured her. “Everyone put your bags in my and Nico’s room. We’ll figure out who gets the beds and couch and stuff later. Nico and I are going to sleep on the floor, and Mom and Paul are staying with our neighbors, so we should be good. Cramped, but good.”

“Percy?” Nico emerged from his room with a huge grin; Percy easily swept his little brother up in a hug. He’d only been home for a few brief moments on his way to camp, and Nico had been in school. It was the first time they’d seen each other since Thanksgiving.

“Neeks!” Jason greeted him. Nico did the standard eye-roll, but couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, Grace. Thalia couldn’t make it up this year?”

“Artemis has her hunting some moose in Canada or something.”

“Maybe she ran into some of Frank’s family?” Piper joked, pulling Nico into another hug.

“Hey, hey!” Nico protested, but he didn’t struggle too hard. “Neehhh! Piper!”

“What kind of sound was that, death boy?” Leo joked, already pushing random buttons on the coffee machine.

“No, Leo, you’re not allowed caffeine!” Calypso tried to shoo him away but ended up locked in a shoving contest instead. “Stop! Stop!” They were both laughing hysterically. It was sickeningly cute, but Percy let it slide. It was Christmas.

“Dude, she’s right,” Jason said. “Remember that time you tried Starbucks? It was literally decaf, but you were bouncing up the walls for a _week_.”

“I know, I remember!” Leo grabbed a wooden spoon from the counter and started trying to duel Calypso with it. “Engarde! I wanted to tinker with it, that’s all! Call it a--take that!--Christmas present, _mi amigos_.”

“Can we not break Paul’s lifeline?” Percy groaned. “And Leo, you’re not Inigo Montoya. Stop trying to stab your girlfriend.”

“I’m Latino! He’s Spanish! I could be!” Leo poked Calypso again, who was laughing too hard to even stand upright. “You keelled my father! Prepaaare to die!”

Calypso grabbed onto the counter for support, but that portion of the counter happened to have a few pieces of paper on it, so she slipped and fell to the ground, curled up in fetal position, still laughing hysterically.

“Oh! Oh shit! Calypso!” Leo dropped the spoon and started to help her up. Everyone else started laughing right along with her.

Nico scrambled to grab the papers from the ground. “Sorry, guys. Paul was helping me with a take-home final earlier--I should’ve put my notes back in my room.”

Will walked in while Nico still had his back turned. He’d parked the car for Percy since Percy was the one with the key to the apartment. He put a finger to his lips, snuck up to Nico, and grabbed his arm. Nico jumped and turned; any attitude melted off his face in a second. “Will!” he cried and wrapped him in a hug. Percy knew it was probably taking him a _lot_ of self-control not to PDA, but, after Jason and Piper, that effort was much appreciated.

“Uh…” Nico sheepishly backed out of the hug and put the papers back on the counter. “Paul went to pick up a few things for dinner. He should be back in, like, twenty minutes? And Sally should be along with everyone else in about an hour.

“I brought _Cards Against Humanity_?” Will offered. “Since we can’t play that once Sally and Paul get back…”

“Sold!” Leo cried. “All hands to the couch!”

Percy and Nico shared a look. It was definitely good to be back together.

 

**____________________NICO____________________**

_Cards Against Humanity_ was definitely a fun way to pass the time. Nico himself actually got the biggest laugh near the end of the game. The black card said “Christians which they could erase….” and Nico, not having any good answers, decided to throw out a card because he didn’t know what the phrase meant, exactly. So, he put down “altar boys” but ended up winning the round with it. No one would explain what the joke was, though.

When Sally arrived, Percy did the smart thing and went into the hallway to meet Annabeth. Nico, Leo, Al, and Piper all bet the Jackson family’s last Swiss Chocolate bar on how long it would take for them to come back inside. Piper won with ‘fifteen minutes’ which was unfair because Nico said ‘thirteen minutes’ and they came in at fourteen minutes. Piper swore that it was fourteen minutes, thirty seconds, and Al backed her up, but Nico saw Al walking around with something that looked suspiciously like a piece of chocolate a few minutes later.

A Mario Kart tournament began, with Reyna, Jason, Percy, and Annabeth competing in round one. “The round of the love square!” Leo dubbed it.

“Hey!” Hazel harped. “It is a love _hexagon,_ Leo Valdez! Nico and Piper were a big part of that all!”

Then, it came time for presents. The demigods had all decided that they’d chip in together by camp to get a few big presents since they were all basically broke. Will got to tag along with the Camp Halfblood crew, because Nico insisted.

Hestia and Blaise chipped in together to get those cool two-way mirror collectable items from Hogsmeade, (since the lack of drachmas had forced Nico to forgo weekly IMs), a complete set of the _Assassin’s Creed_ games from the Camp Jupiter people, a Celestial Bronze shield from the Camp Half-blood people (with a comment from Leo that Leo did most of the work). His favorite present, however, was from Will (as an extra) and his parents: a commuter’s pass to Providence, Rhode Island, so he could visit Will in college more often.

Hazel’s Camp Half-blood gift, a membership to a horse-barn-thing where she could ride trails and stuff (proposed by Nico), went over really well. His individual gift to Will, a new phone case that read “If you need to ask, don’t” (Will’s new favorite meme) got a nice laugh from everyone too.

The most memorable reaction, however, came at the end. Percy had already given Annabeth an individual gift--this owl necklace that matched her old earrings--but said at the end that he’d accidently forgotten the other half of the gift. “It was a box set thing,” he explained, searching for the last box in his bag from Camp Half-blood. “I ran out of time to wrap this one, which is why I didn’t put it under the tree.”

The next second, he pulled out a little black box. A ring.

“Oh my gods…” Piper whispered. Nico looked around; everyone, minus Sally and Paul, were completely stunned. Nico guessed Percy had forced them to zip it.

“Not until we’re out of college, at least,” Percy promised Annabeth. He was still sitting crisscrossed on the floor next to her, the little black box unopened in his hand, “I know how much you want to do, and I’d never make you choose between a career and me. But, we’ve been to Hell and back more times than I can count… we’ve _somehow_ managed to stay alive and together through so much… and, I know that a lot of college couples end up happily married, so it doesn’t really feel irresponsible anymore.”

Annabeth laughed, tearing up. “When did you become practical, seaweed brain?”

“Day I met you,” Percy answered smoothly, with his trademarked ‘I’m the awesomest’ grin. “I love you, Annabeth, and I don’t ever want to lose you. I don’t know what my life would be like without you--actually, I do. It would be over. Because I would be dead.”

Another laugh. But neither of them were paying any attention to the group reactions.

“Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, will you marry me? At some undetermined point before one of us dies?”

He opened the ring. He wasn’t lying; it was a box set. The beautiful little owl, sapphires for tiny little eyes, glowed as bright as the moon against the black velvet of the box.

“Yes,” Annabeth whispered.

“She said yes!” Percy yelled, throwing both fists into the air. “Shit--here’s the ring. You should probably put that on--”

“--before you drop it and one of the eyes fall out, yeah.” Annabeth laughed again and kissed him lightly on the lips. “What would you do without me?”

“I literally just said--I would die.”

In the commotion, Hazel grabbed Nico’s hand and nodded towards his bedroom. He wanted to wish Percy congratulations but knew they’d have plenty of time for that in the days to come. So, he followed her into the other room.

She quietly closed the door.

“Some night, huh?” Hazel asked. Nico nodded. He knew when she was upset, and this was one of those moments. He’d been getting that on his radar all night--how quiet she was, and her smiles seemed a little forced--but she was too good at hiding her own feelings for him to know for sure, and he hadn’t had a moment alone with her yet to ask.

“I was talking to Dad the other day--”

_Of fucking course. Screw her feelings._

Nico stood up and started to head for the door, but Hazel blocked it. “Let me go.”

“No, Nico.”

“I want to wish Percy and Annabeth congratulations.”

“In a minute.”

“Hazel!” Nico slapped the foot of his bed. “How many times do you have to do this to me?! How many times do we have to have this argument?!”

“He cares about you, Nico!”

“That isn’t _good_ enough anymore!”

“You can’t hold this grudge forever! You have no idea what he had to go through to keep you, Bianca, and me safe! You need to learn to forgive!”

“Not everything can be forgiven! This is a prime example. Now let me go!”

“No!”

“How many times will you let him put you up to this?! Just-- just tell him to move _on_!”

“He’s your _Dad_! He’s not going to--”

“He’s my _father_! He is _not_ my Dad! Nonno, Paul, they’re a Dad! Chiron, hell, _Percy_ has been more of a parent than him!”

Nico tried to rip Hazel from the doorframe. She resisted, but after a few seconds of scuffle, he was able to shove her onto the foot of his bed. “This is killing him, Nico!”

“He was killing me!” Nico screamed, eyes wild.

He’d never told anyone about his suicide attempt. Percy, in the letter, yes, but he’d been rather vague on purpose and never really gone into much detail. The only time he’d managed it was to Harry, in the Chamber of Secrets, when he knew the follower of Hecate was minutes away from death. And, even then, it had taken such _anger_ to get rid of his filter.

Now, the sweetest person in his life knew the truth in the most horrible way possible. Because he got angry. Again.

_Way to ruin Christmas, Nico._

Hazel didn’t say anything; she couldn’t. So, Nico tried again. “He put too much pressure on me, Haze. He doesn’t like being failed. You have Pluto, who doesn’t interact that much with the outside world. Hades… he’s different. It was some stupid luck that a random follower of Hecate walked into the bathroom that day… if he hadn’t… I can’t go back to that. I can’t keep holding on.”

Hazel stood up slowly and wrapped her arms around Nico. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered back. “I love you.”

Nico snuck out of the apartment at midnight; it was easy since he was sleeping on the floor by the door. He went to his favorite spot, a shadowy corner under the stairwell, and shadow traveled away.

It was December 19th again. Seven years since Bianca died.

Nico wasn’t guilty anymore, but he wanted to remember his family. Nonno and Nonna, Mamma and Bianca, living in Val d'Aosta and secretly working against Mussolini. So, he decided to return to their graves each December 19th. To give himself a day to mourn and remember, but not to lament. Maybe one day he’d take Will up here, or Percy, or Hazel.

He picked a few wildflowers from the roadside and crossed into the graveyard.

_Nonno, Nonna, I’m sorry you never knew the truth. I think you’d be proud of me._

_Mamma, you were a hero. More than anyone at Camp Half-blood or Jupiter… because you didn’t have to be._

_Bianca… I wish things had been different. I will always love you._

He sat there, humming his mother’s old lullaby to himself. He looked up at the stars in the clear, Italian sky, and found the Big Dipper. His mother’s favorite constellation; she’d always follow the panhandle to meet up with Pàpa. Hades.

A breeze whipped around Nico’s face, startlingly similar to the one way back on his sixteenth birthday when Hades summoned him with the Helm of Darkness.

“I love you, Pàpa,” he said, shaking horribly. “That’s why…” Familiar words came back to him, Bianca’s words. “I love you, Pàpa. Unconditionally.”

Just for a second, the Big Dipper seemed to twinkle out of existence, as though it was blocked by something.

But, perhaps, it was only in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think you'd get a 100% feel-good one-shot, did you? This IS "The Coming of Nico di Angelo" after all...
> 
> PS: so much of this fic was "stuff I originally had in the main story but had to cut for time trimmed and repainted a bit for a Christmas holiday theme"...
> 
>  
> 
> Sooooo many things to address in this story. I'll just go in chronological order:
> 
> I know Hermione probably went to the Alps to ski. I needed her to be in JFK, so shhh!
> 
> I fucking love the Grinch. Well, the animated one. I haven't seen the live-action version, but from the reviews, I don't think I'd like it that much.
> 
> I know the present to Hermione is kind of corny, but it was one of the "should've been in the main story" things. And 'tis the season to be corny, right?
> 
> The Leo/Calypso thing? An actual moment between me and my (then) boyfriend. We're friends now, but I still have not forgiven him for making me turn into a laugh-fetus.
> 
> Nico's "Cards Against Humanity" fuck up? ALSO an actual thing that happened to me. I was Nico. I AM A STUPID JEW OKAY?! (And I know what was funny NOW, because I looked it up later that evening.)
> 
> I stole "love hexagon" from High School Story/Hollywood U, these free apps by Pixleberry. They're amazing, by the way, so you should totally download it.
> 
> If I said that Will went to a different college in the main fic, I apologize. Tell me in comments, and I'll correct it. I word-searched the fic just in case, but I couldn't find anything with "college" or "university" or "gap year" that applied to Will.
> 
> The proposal was another thing I wanted in the original story. It was actually a major plotpoint in the beginning; it was actually the reason for "Poseidon and Athena unite" in the very, very early stages of the fic. Before Hecate was even a character early.
> 
> That last moment, with Nico in the graveyard? That was actually how I was going to end the main fic; he was going to get the adoption papers, then go and do the Big Dipper thing and officially let go of Bianca. But, it seemed superfluous, and it would've been out of character for him to have a defined moment when he moved on. So, I scrapped it. But I still love the image.
> 
> And, no, I'm not telling you whether that was Hades in his helm of darkness or just Nico's own wishes. It wouldn't be a Melody Rose classic without something left unanswered/up to interpretation!


	46. Alice in Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cho Chang continues to mourn the loss of Cedric... and now Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: General Audiences  
> Trigger Warning: None  
> Word Count: 768
> 
>  
> 
> Yeah, I know it's super short, but I've had writer's block with this fic for almost a year, so hopefully this is my break out of it. I will be continuing the "Percy and Annabeth wedding" plot, as well as everything I set up in the previous short story, but I just can't put it onto paper yet. I don't know why.
> 
> So, I might be starting another GoFundMe soon to finance that musical I keep going on about, "A Deadly Game of Chess." I don't know yet, because I'd be producing it at school and I haven't started school yet. But, if I do, this is where I have the biggest audience so I'd probably tailor the perks and stuff to you. So... what kind of things would you guys want? The only thing I can think of is to put the main fic in book form (and finally edit chapters 4-7) then have Viviana illustrate it. But that would probably be on the more expensive side.
> 
> Just tell me in the comments. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> And all the characters are owned by JK Rowling, or Rick Riordan.
> 
> Credits at the end.

**____________________CHO____________________**

One. Now two.

The nights were far too long, and each one stretched longer than the last. Each day the sun set faster but rose at a crawling pace. Each night, the blackness got thicker until it was tangible, pulling at the skin, slicing the lips, twisting the stomach until it begged for mercy. The night sapped the moisture from the skin, leaving a mummy in its wake. Hot, biting tears fought to be released, but they got no such catharsis. Tears didn’t help the first time, why should they help the second?

Did curses truly exist? Not the magical kind, but the karmic. Did the universe choose at random who to elevate and who to damn? Could it push the hands of time? Could it pluck thoughts from the head or whisper them into the brain? Did it plant love and longing, anger and hatred, happiness and disgust? Did it choose at random who should live and who should die, who should be left behind to brave the ever growing night?

In Alice and Wonderland, the Mad Hatter insulted Time, and was stuck at 3 o’clock in the afternoon every day until Time could forgive him. He was forced to sit at his tea table and go through the motions of tea time, again and again, moving from place setting to place setting as the food ran out and tea got cold. His life was a merry-go-round, what he once enjoyed was now a prison.

Was time offended, accidentally angered somehow? Did Time decide to slow the clock each midnight, turning the bed into a merry-go-round, the sheets a prison? Did it whisper these thoughts and feelings out of spite? Did it stop up the eyes to keep the tears from flowing? Did it curse her?

Cho tried to step out of her bed, like she did every night. But, her feet wouldn’t budge. Why should they? What was the point of the merry-go-round? Classes, Quidditch, more classes, more Quidditch. With Umbridge gone the DA was dead, Annabeth was gone, and the crushing loneliness set in again. Marietta left her, saying she couldn’t take the crying anymore, saying she’d come back when Cho grew up and that it was for her own good. As if Cho did it to spite her. Didn’t she know how much Cho wished she could stop? How many Gallons she’d pay to let it all pass?

Her classes meant nothing, quidditch meant nothing, her friends meant nothing, nothing meant nothing. The sun wasn't warm anymore, the food tasted bland, the lake no longer sparkled, books no longer entertained her, homework wasn't painful, taunts didn't hurt her... all she ever felt anymore was gray. Just gray. A dark gray that turned to black each time she fell back into that prison of a bed.

Would she give up Cedric to go back to the carefree girl whose thoughts were dominated by Quidditch stats and OWLs? Could she? He made her so happy, he colored the world, turned everything vibrant and glowing. The gray was even more noticeable now because of it. And Harry, so different from Cedric, but a shining glimmer of hope to pull her out of this darkness. He lowered a rope for her and reached out his hand, pushing her higher and higher until she could finally see the occasional pale blues and yellows. But, as she reached up to grab his hand, Time pulled him away and let her fall yet again.

If Time gave out curses, Cho was cured to never love again. Death was commissioned to make sure of that. But, why? What had Cho done to Time to force this merry-go-round? Why snatch Cedric only to take Harry too? If Time could only tell her what she'd done, she'd spend each endless night repenting until, at last, she could see the palest of colors.

She longed to see the pearly clouds block the beaming sun again. She wanted to taste the sweetness of blueberries and cream. She wanted to hear a laugh echo off the walls as she turned the smoke from the fireplace into different shapes with a few whispered spells. She wanted characters to leap off the page and back into her imagination.

Alice got to walk away from the Mad Hatter's tea party. He was stuck in that never-ending cycle. What would it take for Time to forgive, and allow him to chase after her into the glory of Wonderland?

"Goodnight, Cedric. Goodnight, Harry. If you loved me, ask Time to set me free? Remember me, please. I promise I won't forget you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a downer, wasn't it? Well, get back to your roots, I suppose. I promise a super happy one next to off-set this... thing.
> 
> Remember to give me perk ideas in the comments! Also if you know of any other way for me to fundraise, that would be helpful too.


	47. PROMISE THIS IS THE LAST TIME (update)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking down very soon

Viviana and I noticed that the cover art (and, maybe, some other pictures I haven't checked) are down. We're working to fix it. I know a lot of people just binged the story after I posted the new one-shot, which is why I'm making a new chapter, so the newbies get the memo. I'll take this down in a few days, since I also made notes at the tops of those chapters.

That's all! I'm working on another one-shot because I'd like to update at least semi-regularly, even if I don't have time at the moment to go back to weekly updates.

 

-Melody Rose


End file.
